Home
by Echo-AU
Summary: "In her private moments when she was alone in her bed she would envision the worst, sometimes even shake with unfounded terror that her son's birth mother would return and claim a biological right to him." Regina's worst nightmares drive her to find Emma, but neither are prepared for what will happen when she does. Set 4 years before season 1.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Jo, who has done fantastic work making sure this story is good enough to see the light of day :)**

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o

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"Hiya Joe," Emma called out wearily as she sat down on to the bar stool, greeting the older man behind the counter.

"Hey kid," the bartender replied, "what can I get for you tonight?"

"Just the usual." Emma looked around the bar, scanning the familiar faces as she stifled a yawn. It had been a long day waiting tables at the diner, but it was the Thursday before a long weekend and she was damned if she was going to go home early tonight.

The bartender pushed a scotch on the rocks to Emma and nodded his head to the other side of the room. "Couple of new faces over at the tables," he said casually as he started to wipe down the bar with a towel. "Could be some fun to be had," he added before moving his way along the bar, refilling the peanuts as he went.

Emma grinned as she sipped on her drink, the warmth of the alcohol spreading through her as she glanced over to the tables on the other side of the bar. Joe had been right, there were a couple of new faces there. _Probably out of towners_, Emma surmised, _they would never know what hit them_.

Casually she sauntered over to the other side of the room, stopping occasionally to say a few words to the regulars as she made her way. As she reached the end of the bar she turned slightly, noticing Joe in her periphery.

"Hey Joe, anything you got that you can make look alcoholic? Going virgin for a while," she murmured as she leaned back against the bar, her elbows resting along the edge as she watched the two men before her.

"Coming right up." She heard from behind.

Emma watched as the two guys before her racked a new game, the taller of the pair breaking first. They were evenly matched and not half bad at shooting pool - it would be fun, if nothing else. Gods knew she needed the distraction.

Emma wandered over to the pair, her drink in hand, cringing internally at the bright pink liquid and the ridiculous umbrella and straw Joe had sought reason to add. She'd make him pay later for this absurdly girlish drink.

"Wow," she said breathlessly as she reached the nearer of the two men, "you two are amazing at this!" She put her arm down on the edge of the table in a feigned attempt to steady herself. "How do you do it?" she asked, adding a very slight slur to her voice.

The shorter, and closer, of the pair smiled a particularly toothy grin. "I can teach you, love," he said.

"Oh would you?" Emma asked, surprise in her voice. It was like taking candy from a baby.

An hour later and a number of rounds of drinks, Emma affected the epitome of hopeless, drunk female. Truth be told she was getting sick of the mocktails, but as long as the rounds were being ordered and the men were getting subsequently more inebriated, she was happy.

"Let's make this interesting," she said, adding a slight hiccup for effect. Fumbling for her wallet she brought out a $20 note and put it down on the edge of the table. She didn't fail to miss the look that passed between the pair, nor how their eyes had strayed to her wallet and noticed a few more notes, a Ben Franklin or two amongst them.

She lost the first few games in a spectacular fashion and the men were eager to tell her she'd get better at it soon enough - encouraged her to keep trying. As she won her first game she whooped in delight, declaring loudly the wonders of beginner's luck. A few games later she was up $300, shaking her head in feigned astonishment.

"Double or nothing," the taller of the pair said, not waiting for an answer as he began racking the balls for a final time.

Emma grinned to herself. They'd clearly had enough of playing, but didn't want to walk out having lost to such an amateur. This was always the way of the desperate gambler - she was constantly surprised at how often the 'double or nothing' phrase was thrown around with her. Surely people should just learn to cut their losses and move on.

"Back right," Emma said barely more than five minutes later. Carefully she lined up the shot, watching with practiced ease as the black ball pocketed cleanly. The two guys mumbled curses under their breath as they paid out their losses, grumbling about being hustled by some two-bit whore. Grabbing their jackets they strode out of the bar.

Emma laughed as she made her way back to Joe, handing him a $100 note. "Thanks for the tip off," she said as she leaned on the counter.

"All good, kid. Thought you might like the diversion," he said as he pocketed the money.

"Plus the added income is nice. Tips just don't pay the bills," Emma rejoined. "Oh and hey," she reached over, giving him a firm punch in the arm, "that's for giving me those girly drinks."

Joe chuckled. "I'll get you something more to your liking," he said as he moved off to make her a drink.

Emma turned, looking around the bar. The place had become steadily busier as she'd been playing pool, a good amount of space taken up by people coming in to let off steam after a long week of work. She groaned softly to herself and ran her fingers through her hair; those candy pink drinks were making their way right through her and she knew she wouldn't enjoy another drink until these ones were out of her system.

She pushed herself off the bar and headed to the bathroom, the familiar slightly sticky feel of the floor beneath her feet causing her to grit her teeth together. She wasn't a clean freak, but she really hated walking through anything messy. As she looked down to the ground to try to avoid the more apparent wet areas of spilled drinks she bumped into a woman exiting the bathroom.

"Sorry," she mumbled absently as she moved past her, opening the door that had just closed. Stopping briefly she turned around, observing the retreating form of a brunette, noting the faint smell of expensive perfume in the air, before shrugging it off and entering the bathroom.

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o

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"Here you go, kid," Joe said as Emma returned to the bar, putting a scotch on the rocks down in front of her.

"Thanks Joe, much better," she chided playfully.

"Someone new at the other end of the bar," he said, motioning down the long counter, "you might like this one."

Emma glanced around him, noticing the same brunette she'd run in to near the bathroom. From this angle, she was quite easy on the eyes; shoulder length dark hair in soft curls, liquid honey-brown eyes so dark she could imagine losing herself in their depths and skin so smooth she wanted to taste it all. The grey power suit with white blouse underneath just screamed 'class'. This woman would be a heartbreaker.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, Joe," she muttered.

"Just looking out for ya, kid," he replied.

Emma swallowed the last of her drink and nodded in reply to Joe's un-asked question as he'd held up the empty glass. The slight buzz of alcohol gave her a touch of liquid courage as she sauntered up to the brunette, sitting down on the stool next to her. The smell of her perfume was intoxicating.

"Hi," she said by way of opening, "can I get you a drink?" She put on one of her best smiles as she looked over towards the brunette.

The brunette, for her part, held up her half-filled glass and raised an eyebrow in response.

"Right, you're still going with one." Emma fidgeted slightly as she ran her fingers through her hair, feeling slightly off balance, thankful as Joe rescued her by putting another drink down before her. She took a few sips of it before trying another tack.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

"I'm in town for business."

"Oh? What do you do?" she asked, hoping to start some conversation. After a few moments of awkward silence Emma licked her lips and sighed softly. "Right, that's probably none of my concern." She hadn't remembered flirting being this difficult; she wondered if this was a waste of her time, wondered if she'd just lost her edge. Emma took another sip of her drink before returning it to the bar top, one hand still holding to the glass as if it were an anchor.

"I don't really see your type come in here very often," she said.

"Excuse me?" The brunette turned to look at her, lifting an eyebrow.

_Smooth, Em, real smooth_, she thought as she swallowed the last of her drink, catching Joe's eye and indicating for another.

"I mean, stylish. No offense to Joe over there," she said, motioning towards the older bartender, "but this place is pretty much a dive. Nice enough folks here, but this isn't exactly a classy establishment." Emma hoped that was enough to stop her digging the hole she was already standing in.

"I've seen worse," the brunette answered, shrugging a little as she eyed the surroundings.

Joe put the scotch on the counter in front of Emma and she exhaled softly as she wrapped a hand around it. This wasn't exactly going to plan. _Gods_, she thought, _another holiday weekend to spend on my own. Fantastic_. Idly she dipped her finger in to the alcoholic drink and traced the lip of the glass in lazy circles. It wasn't until she lifted her finger to her mouth and licked off the light trace of scotch that she wondered if she didn't just catch the brunette watching her movements. Emma turned her head to look at this woman, but she was staring out ahead of them, across the crowded bar, finishing the last of her drink.

Emma chewed on her lower lip, contemplating what to do with the rest of her night. Clearly the woman next to her had no interest; what she was doing in a dive like this bar was beyond Emma's comprehension - probably just slumming it for a night to see how the other side lived. _Just get up and leave, Em, go home_. However, the more she thought about that dimly lit one bedroom apartment the less appealing it was for her. Maybe it was time to move on; see a new city, start another life. Gods knew she had nothing tying her to this place; nothing tying her to any of the previous three cities she'd lived in the past five years - it would be so easy just to pick up and go once more.

Emma closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose; all she wanted was a distraction and the alcohol was definitely not living up to its end of the bargain. She leaned back slightly, glancing at the woman beside her. If she let her mind wander just enough she could imagine kissing those full lips, tasting that sweet mouth and doing many other less innocent things with that beautiful, well-toned body. She sighed in frustration.

The brunette finished her drink and stood, looking through her handbag for her purse. Emma almost offered to pay, just to have those dark, soulful eyes look at her one more time before losing her from her life forever. Just a little something for her mind to have when she inevitably went home, alone. _Geez, Em, flair for the dramatic, much? _As she opened her mouth to say something, the brunette produced her purse, fishing out some money for the drink she'd had; Emma closed her mouth once more - there was little point in saying anything.

As the older woman turned to leave the purse slipped from her hand and Emma heard the mumbled curse beside her. Without thinking she slid off the bar stool and picked it up, handing it back to the woman.

"Here you go," Emma said, putting her hand out, offering her the purse.

"Thank you."

As she handed the purse over to the woman their fingers grazed slightly and Emma was somewhat taken aback as the brunette's chestnut brown eyes lifted suddenly, locking on to her own as if searching for something; seeking an answer to a question she didn't even know had been asked. Before she had time to respond the moment was lost, the brunette lowering her eyes once more as she placed her purse back in her handbag and turned to leave.

"Hey," Emma called out to the retreating form, "can you at least tell me your name?" _What the hell_, Emma thought, _can't hurt my non-existent chances now I suppose_.

The other woman stopped, her back still to Emma, as she turned her head almost imperceptibly to the side.

"Regina," came the quiet reply.

And before Emma had the wits to process anything further, the older woman had left the bar.

"Too bad," Joe said as he turned his attention to Emma who was still eyeing the door as if she might go after the stranger, "she looked like your type."

Emma laughed in derision. "She was well outta my league, Joe. I know it, you know it, she knew it." She turned back to the bar and lifted her drink, downing the last of it in one go. "Put it on the tab, would ya?"

She didn't wait for an answer as she zipped her jacket up and left the bar, heading back to her one bedroom apartment, alone, wishing she had more than her over-active imagination for distraction.

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o

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Regina slid the hotel key-card in to the lock and pushed her way inside, kicking her high heels off at the first available opportunity. Making her way to the mini-bar she took the first three bottles out without paying any attention to what they were, downing the first one in a quick gulp, wincing slightly as she realized it was vodka. She shuddered at the burning trail it left down her throat; she had always hated vodka and tonight was no exception. She ran her fingers through her hair before turning on the lamp beside the bed, sinking wearily down on to the mattress. It had been one hell of a day.

She reached out, grabbed the folder sitting on the night table, and opened it absentmindedly; she had thumbed through this folder more times in the past months than she cared to think about, knew every detail that the records had provided and even some that they had not. She'd told herself numerous lies about why she was so intent on finding this woman who, so very clearly, if this information was correct, did not wish to be found. It was when her private investigator had said she had been located that she set up bogus appointments interstate as a cover as to why she was leaving town, important appointments that just could not be postponed. _Sorry, Henry_, she'd said to him, his trusting, wide eyes looking up at her, _I promise I'll be back for your birthday on Sunday. Mommy just needs to go away for work for a couple of days_.

In her private moments when she was alone in her bed she would envision the worst, sometimes even shake with unfounded terror that her son's birth mother would return and claim a biological right to him. The older he got, the closer he came to starting school, the worse it had become and eventually, with only weeks until he started first grade, she had finally given in to her fears and tracked this woman down. _Just to find out, just to see if she could ever be a threat_, she had reasoned with herself.

As she'd finished her drink in the bar that night she felt she had all the information she needed, this woman would pose no problem to her. If the cheap pleather jacket and dollar store boots weren't a give away, then the way she hustled the two men certainly was; even if she attempted to claim any custodial rights, there wouldn't be a court in the country who would grant them. _She could provide for Henry, she could love Henry and she was the one affecting stability in his life_. Three cities in five years; idly she wondered what was so special about _here_ that Emma had remained for almost two years, breaking her cycle of moving every twelve months.

She could have left that night with what she knew, flown back to Storybrooke and been there to cook Henry breakfast on Friday morning. She had assumed she was prepared for everything when she'd come here, assumed she'd covered all her bases. What she hadn't been prepared for was the blonde woman bumping her when she'd left the bathroom, hadn't been prepared for the slight spark that had shot through her. Oh, she'd brushed it off as the initial buzz of alcohol which is why, as she'd stood to leave, she let her purse drop to the floor; tempted fate, hoped the blonde would do exactly as she had done. She had to be sure, just one small test.

And when she'd let her finger graze that of the other woman's she'd almost felt her breath catch as the spark shot through her once again; locked eyes with her to search for the thread that caused the spark.

She downed the second drink, happier to find it was a mini Jack Daniels, as she stared at the photo of Emma in the folder. She really should just go home, should just go back to her life, go back to running a town and raising a child and leave this city in her wake. She traced the outline of Emma's face and sighed as she swallowed the third bottle; closing the folder, she put it back on the nightstand and turned off the lamp beside her bed.

Instead of doing all the things she knew she should, she rolled over in the bed and bargained with herself that surely one more accidental meeting would be alright. One more accidental meeting just to be certain so she could go back to her life and forget. She had to know if it was just the alcohol or the long day she'd had beforehand, had to know what caused the spark, that magic spark, the impossible spark, a spark she hadn't felt since the day Daniel had died.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Jo, who has done fantastic work making sure this story is good enough to see the light of day :)**

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o

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Emma groaned as she rolled over, the incessant ringing pulling her from a restless sleep. Throwing her arm in the direction of the sound, she hit her alarm clock with a satisfied 'thump' and prepared to let herself drift back in to unconsciousness. Her pleasure at hitting the alarm clock lasted only momentarily when she realized the ringing had continued unabated. Blearily she opened one eye and looked at the bright red numbers displayed, groaning again. She pulled the pillow over her head, clamping out the noise of what she had since discerned was her phone. No person in their right mind would be calling now - she had no family to worry about; whatever this was could hold off until a more respectable hour of the day.

She waited until it had stopped ringing before she allowed herself to relax once more, waiting for her slumber to pull her back under. It was just as she was on the precipice of tumbling back in to a dreamless sleep that her phone started up again.

"Oh for Christ's sake," she mumbled as she reached over to her phone, irritated. Checking the caller ID didn't help ease her irritation as she finally answered it.

"Eddie, what the fuck? It's barely 5am."

"Whoa, good morning to you too, princess," came the deep southern accent on the other end of the line.

"Seriously, Ed, what the fuck?" She lay back against her pillows, throwing an arm over her eyes to block out the sun's first rays coming through her window.

"Well, to get straight to the point, Cara called in sick this morning, Adrienne is god knows where and Samantha is on some hippie retreat and un-contactable until next week."

"And what exactly does this have to do with me? I haven't worked for you in six months, Ed; you know I'm working at the diner now." She was aching to go back to sleep for another few hours; her head felt like it was filled with cotton candy and now that she was at least partially awake, she realized she was thirsty. _Fantastic_, she thought.

"You know this cafe inside and out, Em. You know I wouldn't call if it wasn't an emergency."

Emma let out an impatient grunt but didn't answer.

"C'mon Em, double time rates. The breakfast crowd is gonna be here in less than an hour."

She sighed again, realizing even if she did get off the phone now, she probably wouldn't be able to drift back in to blissful unconsciousness. "Triple time," she said.

"Are you trying send me broke here, Em?" Eddie whined through the phone.

"I'm hanging up now, Ed," she threatened.

"Ok ok, you got me. Triple time." He paused, waiting to see if he was going to be interrupted. When no sound from Emma was forthcoming he added, "so you'll be here then?"

"Yeah Ed, why the hell not," she answered with resignation. "I'll see you when I get there."

Hanging up she tossed the phone on the other side of her bed. It wasn't exactly the distraction she was searching for this weekend, but at least it would help pay the bills.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina's alarm sounded at 6am sharp, only to be turned off before it made its way through its first sequence of synthesized sound. She'd had a restless sleep and decided at 4.30am that trying to attempt to do so any further was both a waste of time and effort. As she had on many occasions prior, she'd been flipping through the folder detailing every scrap of information her pooled sources had been able to find out about Emma. She'd been searching for a clue, a sign, any hint of something that she could pinpoint and have her 'a-ha' flash, that god forsaken Oprah Winfrey 'light bulb moment' when last night would make sense. Even as the sunshine wended its way through the hotel windows it refused to cast any light on the subject matter at hand.

She had stared at the photo of Emma solidly for the past twenty minutes as if by some divine miracle it would provide her the answers she sought; stubbornly it declined to comment. No matter how many times she went back over all the things she knew, it refused to come together and show her. She should not have felt that - not with her. The spark, she knew, was only supposed to happen once in a lifetime and she had felt it with Daniel. She had been down that road already and countless empty years had followed; a loveless marriage, early widowhood and more than enough time of meaningless vengeance. And that spark, she knew, she absolutely knew, would never be felt again.

Yet here she was in a land without magic and, even in the harsh light of day, she couldn't make herself believe last night had been purely the effects of alcohol.

She stretched as she climbed out of bed, padding over to the hotel safe and putting the folder back inside, locking it once more before she made her way to the bathroom. She figured she'd have breakfast in the hotel restaurant and maybe spend her day looking for a gift for Henry's birthday before heading back to the bar this evening in the hopes of finding Emma once more. _Just to be sure_, she reminded herself. She knew from the file that Emma spent a good chunk of her weekend nights at the bar and was a regular fixture at the pool tables; if Regina was going to chance a second meeting, this would be the place.

Happy with her course of action for the day, Regina sighed contentedly as the hot water rushed over her body leaving a cleansing, revitalized fire in its wake.

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o

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Emma yawned behind her hand as she looked around the cafe. The morning rush had come and gone and the lunch time crowd was dwindling; less than an hour and she'd be free of this place once more. While she hadn't been particularly thrilled to be working this long weekend, it had been nice to see Lou and Eddie again; although she admittedly was somewhat surprised Lou was still working in the kitchens here. Any observations she had on that matter she kept resolutely to herself. _Just one shift, Em_, she kept telling herself as each hour had continued to drag.

She'd filled them both in on the last six months of her life, a surprisingly short tale even to her own ears. _Yes she was still working at the diner, no she still wasn't seeing anyone, yes she was still shooting pool, no she would not give them lessons_. Nothing really changed much in six months it seemed. If she took the time to think about it, her whole life seemed to be stalled in time, unmoving, unchanging. It was a depressing thought and she supposed that's why she seldom let her mind linger too long on those lines.

Tiredly she turned back and began to clean out the coffee machine whilst there was a lull in customers. Her mind barely registered Eddie's greeting as a new customer entered, telling them to sit anywhere they liked and someone would be over shortly to take their order.

"Christ Eddie, when was the last time you cleaned this?" she asked as Eddie turned back from the counter.

Eddie grinned at her, a lopsided smirk on his face.

"What?" she asked with not a small amount of annoyance.

"You still batting for the other team?"

"Eddie!"

"Well are you?" he asked, pressing her for an answer.

"It's none of your goddamn business."

Eddie held his hands up in mock surrender. "Hey look, I was just gonna say as a bit of a thank you that you should take the next customer if you were swinging that way - if not, hell I'll try my luck. The lady is quite the looker."

Emma wondered why it was all of a sudden that her friends were trying to set her up with a .. a .. she wasn't really quite sure what they were trying to set her up with, but she wasn't sure she liked the attention.

"I don't need your help, Ed," she said with resignation.

"Didn't say you did." He grinned again and started to push Emma out of the way of the coffee machine. "Now, go do your job and wait some tables."

Emma grumbled under her breath as she headed over to the booth by the window, taking her notepad out of her apron pocket and a pencil from behind her ear. The occupant had her back to Emma and was looking out through the window to the park across the street. Emma couldn't help but look out as well, seeing a handful of children playing on the swings and the slides; the knot in her stomach that formed moments before the clench in her heart was enough to make her turn her eyes away.

"Welcome to Parkside Cafe. Can I take your," her breath hitched as the brunette turned around, "order?" The last word came out in a barely audible gasp, Emma only just able to stop herself from dropping the notepad on the floor in front of her. Her eyes locked on to the brunette's for the briefest of moments.

"Regina, right?" she said as she noticed a look pass so quickly across the other woman's face she was almost sure she had imagined it. _Play it cool, Em. Regardless how this looks, she is not following you. This is purely coincidence and.. oh screw it_. Her inner voice was playing unfairly and she had to hope her imagination didn't run away with her again.

"Right. And you are," Regina's eyes flicked to Emma's chest, a slight frown upon her face as she lifted her eyes back up, "Cara?"

"I'm.. what? No.. no why would you think I'm Cara?"

Regina motioned to Emma's name badge.

"Oh, right. Yeah.. no, I'm just filling in for Cara. I'm Emma." Idly she wondered if she should shake Regina's hand after introducing herself, but she soon gave that idea up as being socially awkward and potentially stupid.

"So, um, can I get you anything?"

"Just a coffee, thanks."

Emma started to scribble it down on notepad, her mind working overtime. Could she be so bold? _Fuck it_, her mind told her in no uncertain terms.

"Honestly, you don't want the coffee here. There's another place a few blocks down which serves fantastic coffee, probably the best in the country." She bit her lower lip before deciding to take the plunge, one last time. "I'm off in twenty minutes; I could buy you one if you liked." She winced slightly as she heard the hopeful tone in her voice. _Gods, Emma, you sound like an idiot. She's not the first pretty lady you've set eyes on_.

Emma realized she'd started fidgeting with the hem of her apron and quickly stopped. She waited for a snort of derision and the inevitable rejection that was to follow; she was out of this woman's league and both of them knew it. She should have just cut her losses last night at the bar.

What she wasn't expecting was the brief flicker of emotion that crossed the woman's face before her, how her eyes searched once more for _something_ in Emma's own; what she wasn't expecting was for this woman to tilt her head to the side and agree.

* * *

o

* * *

To say Regina had been shocked when Emma had stepped up to her table was an understatement. She had known, for a fact, that Emma no longer worked here and for the second time in as many days she had been completely unprepared. _Still_, she reasoned with herself, _an accidental meeting was on the agenda for today; it might as well be now_. With that thought in mind she agreed to coffee with this woman at the end of her shift.

She'd watched with no small amount of amusement as Emma had gone back to who she assumed was the owner of this establishment and had words with him. Whatever was said was out of earshot, but Emma's face had turned a crimson red; she'd had to tamp down a grin at the sight. Briefly she had fought with herself, argued that this woman was the birth mother to her child; that having _coffee_ with this person was absolutely not what she had been planning when she'd arrived. But her other side, a side she thought long forgotten and buried, argued just as loudly that the impossible spark had to be tested.

With some surprise she noticed Emma coming back to her table not more than five minutes later, no longer wearing an apron.

"Are you ready?" Emma asked as she approached the table.

Regina nodded as she slipped out of the booth, letting Emma take the lead through the doorway as they exited the cafe. She took a moment to graze her eyes over the form of the blonde before falling in to step beside her. Idly she wondered how, exactly, she was going to find out if she truly had felt something last night or whether her over-wrought imagination had finally caught up with her, placing illusions where no truth lay. If she were completely honest with herself, in this moment, she wasn't sure which possible scenario she would prefer.

"I hadn't expected to see you again," Emma had said as they made their way across the street.

"Maybe it was fate," Regina offered as a response.

Emma snorted softly. "You really believe in that?"

Regina shrugged as she contemplated that very question. Had she been asked that question 24 hours ago then she emphatically would have denied the existence of fate, written it off as the delusions of the weak or lovesick. Perhaps even both. But here, now, she was walking with the one woman on the planet with whom she should have no contact, had bumped in to her in a place she did not work, on a day when she just happened to be filling in for someone else. If fate did not exist, then coincidences were running rampant through her life this day.

"Just this way," Emma said as she motioned down an alley between two buildings.

Regina paused briefly as she took in the sight of the alley, looking at Emma with some concern.

"Trust me," she said, grinning. "This place is the best."

Regina swallowed, then nodded her agreement as she followed the blonde woman. She hoped that she had not seriously miscalculated the situation.

It was only as her fear began to seep into the base of her mind that she realized Emma had stopped before an open door, the smell of coffee wafting out.

"Here we are," Emma said, motioning Regina to step inside first.

What greeted Regina's eyes was nothing that she had expected to see as she had set foot down this alley. The coffee shop was quaint, no more than a dozen or so tables spread out around the room, all with very comfortable looking chairs surrounding them. Against the back wall was a bookcase, crammed full of books covering many genres and on the side was the counter for placing orders, a heavy set, grey haired woman behind it, watching as the pair entered. Upon seeing Emma walk in behind Regina a smile had broken upon the older woman's face and she had rushed out from behind the counter, embracing the blonde beside her. _Hmpf_, Regina thought, _this wasn't in the file_.

"Emma!" the old woman said with a thick Italian accent. She grasped Emma's hands tightly in her own, then proceeded to kiss each of Emma's cheeks in turn. To Regina's surprise, Emma returned the gesture happily.

"Mama," she had said fondly, "how could I stay away?"

The older woman laughed and pinched at Emma's cheek as if she were a wayward child. "I would have had to track you down if you had!" she had replied, the quip light hearted and warm. "And who is this?" she asked, turning her attention to Regina.

"This is Regina," she said before turning her attention to the brunette beside her. "And this is Luciana D'Angelo, maker of the best coffee in the country."

"Mama, please call me Mama. Everyone does."

To Regina's surprise, the older woman grasped her hands in the same way she had Emma's and planted a kiss to each cheek. "Any friend of Emma's is a friend of mine. Now come, sit, sit. I shall bring you my best." With that the older woman motioned for them to take a seat as she moved back behind the counter.

Regina sat down in one of the comfortable leather chairs as she watched the blonde take a seat opposite her. The irony of the situation, of being seated across the table from the mother of her son, was not lost on her - but she felt its importance slipping slightly.

"She has quite the... presence," Regina commented.

Emma laughed softly and Regina couldn't help the slight twitch of her lips as they threatened to break in to a soft smile.

"She certainly does. I probably should have warned you before we came in," Emma said before interlacing her fingers and resting her hands on the table.

"How do you know her?" Regina asked, surprising herself for actually wanting to know the answer.

Emma shrugged and fidgeted slightly, rubbing her thumb along her hand in a self-comforting motion.

"When I first arrived here I didn't know anyone. Eventually I made friends with Joe, the bar owner, and after I had complained for the millionth time about needing a good cup of coffee, he let me in on the secret that the best coffee in town was at Mama's." She sighed softly. "They've been like the parents I never had."

Regina felt her heart ache just slightly. Perhaps this was the reason she had broken her 12 month moving rule, maybe this blonde before her had finally found some semblance of home and was desperately clinging to it. Surprising herself for the second time in as many minutes she found she wanted to lean across and comfort this woman. The thought that this would be the perfect opportunity to find out if the spark had been real floated through her mind briefly.

As she reached her hand out to hold the blonde's across from her in sympathy, Mama arrived with two coffees and two slices of apple pie. Regina eyed the pie warily.

"Thanks, Mama," Emma had supplied as her hair was ruffled slightly by the older woman.

The pair sat in comfortable ease, chatting quietly with each other, getting to know one another. Regina found that the files she had were severely lacking; that copious amounts of information about the actual personality of this blonde woman before her had never been included. In a way she reminded Regina of a younger version of herself; damaged and broken and thrown away. But this woman before her had pulled herself back together, had taped up the wounds and pushed forward. In a small way, it was inspiring.

Regina found herself almost mesmerized as she listened to Emma speak, watching her mouth as she formed each word, the slight rise and fall of her chest as she breathed. Mentally she tried to kick herself and remind herself why she was here, but fate had dealt this woman in to her hands and against the plan she had bargained with herself that morning. If fate was leading down this road, well, what harm would following it a little ways really do?

After two of the best coffees Regina had ever tasted she took a chance to look at her watch. She was amazed to notice that it was now creeping in to early evening; they had been talking now for the better part of three hours. She hadn't felt the time go by.

Emma noticed the slight movement and sighed internally, things had been going so well.

"I guess it is getting late," she remarked, nodding her head at Regina's watch.

"I had a wonderful time," Regina said, and found she actually meant it.

Regina stood and waited whilst Emma paid for the coffees and pie, watching with something akin to wonder at the banter between the blonde and the older woman behind the counter. Motioning for Emma to go first, she followed the blonde out the door of the small coffee shop.

It was at this moment that fate once again intervened. In the waning light of the alleyway she had failed to notice the second step as she moved out of Mama's, misjudging where her foot was likely to land. As she stumbled forward, ready to brace herself for the inevitable impact of her body on the solid concrete, time seemed to slow for her. The absurdity of the situation almost caused her to laugh, her mind seemed to sigh in resignation and the only thought she had was how incredibly ridiculous she must look now, her arms flailing for the balance she clearly lacked.

It was in that moment that she felt the strong arms of Emma wrap around her, steadying her, holding her; and it was in that moment that she thought she would collapse.

There it was, that impossible spark shooting through her like lightning, igniting a slow burning fire in her mind as her breath caught in her throat. She locked eyes with Emma, her breath becoming shallow as her heart began to race; she had to see it, had to see if the thread was there, if Emma felt it too. She searched the blonde woman's face in the rapidly fading light; saw how her forest green eyes had momentarily glassed over, how her lips parted ever so slightly.

"Do you feel that?" she asked softly, exhaling, as if too much sound would break the momentary spell cast over them. She searched her eyes as she lifted a hand to Emma's cheek, running her finger tip along her jaw-line in a mirror image of how she had traced this woman's photo the night before.

"Can you feel it?" she asked again, the sound of her voice tinged with desperation, with such a sound of want as she had not heard from herself in decades.

Instead of an answer she felt Emma's hand slide up her back, tangling itself in her hair as it pulled her head closer. Regina surrendered to the touch and was rewarded with Emma's lips crashing against her own, the blonde woman's tongue demanding entrance to her mouth, entrance she was more than willing to give. This, Regina supposed, was her answer.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina wasn't sure how they had managed to make it back to her hotel room, how they had walked the two blocks, or how they had managed to do so without drawing too much attention to themselves. However, the moment the door was closed behind them she felt herself pushed back against the wall, the cold of the plaster seeping through her clothes. She felt Emma's mouth seek out her own, lips and teeth crashing together, tongues dancing their own duel of dominance; she wondered if she could get lost in the taste of this woman.

She slipped her hand under the hem of Emma's tank top, sliding it up over warm skin, feeling her shiver slightly at her touch. Her own arousal was threatening to overwhelm her as she felt Emma push her jacket down and off her shoulders, felt her lips latch on to the pulse point in her neck, teeth biting down against her soft skin. She groaned in response, another ripple of arousal shooting through to her core.

She pulled at Emma's tank top, allowing a small sound of frustration to slip from her as she tried to pull it up over Emma's head. Gods how she wanted to feel this woman writhing beneath her; wanted to do so many delicious things. The impossible spark was shooting fireworks through her mind as the offending tank top was finally removed, allowing Regina to unclasp her bra and throw it away haphazardly.

Her hands wasted no time as they cupped a breast each, her mouth quickly following to one as she laved kisses upon the porcelain white skin, so smooth to her lips. Her tongue flicked against a hardened nipple, eliciting a moan from the blonde as she felt fingers wrap tightly in her hair, holding her head in place. She slipped her hands to the waistband of Emma's jeans, popping the button before sliding the zip down, pushing the denim pants down as far as she could, the hand still entwined in her hair keeping her head exactly where it was.

Emma groaned as she felt her pants slide off her, and with no small amount of regret she pulled Regina's head back up, her body missing the brunette's mouth almost instantly.

She unbuttoned the blouse of the older woman, saw the arousal of this woman in those beautiful, dark, chestnut coloured eyes; knew that her own would be reflecting the same. Growling softly she gave up trying to be gentle and ripped at the remaining buttons, hearing one of them hit the tiled floor of the entry way. Any protest the brunette might have given was lost as Emma slid her hand up underneath the brunette's skirt, feeling wet panties against her finger tips. She almost shuddered at the thought.

"Bed. Now," she said, her voice thick with desire.

Any remaining clothes were divested before the pair reached the bed, Emma once again pushing Regina back. She watched with a predatory grin as Regina moved up the bed somewhat, saw the lust in her eyes as she slid up along her body, planting kisses against the delicate skin on the stomach of the brunette beneath her. She let her hand work its way slowly up the older woman's leg, feeling the slight tremble beneath her hand as her fingers danced against the sensitive flesh of her inner thigh. Trailing kisses lower she was met with a dark patch of hair and a soft keening noise from Regina.

"Please," she heard the other woman say and she needed no more encouragement than that. The one word alone causing her own arousal to increase.

She slipped two fingers up along the wet folds before pushing them inside, feeling Regina instantly raise her hips and push back against them. _Gods_, Emma thought, _this woman is beautiful_. She felt Regina's hand on her head, fingers beginning to tangle themselves in her hair. She lowered her head further, allowing her tongue to swipe over the length of the other woman, tasting her for the first time. A soft moan escaped her lips as another shudder of arousal shot through her body.

Emma flicked her tongue over Regina's clit before sucking it in to her mouth, the brunette's hand never leaving the back of her head - alternating between soft caress and something akin to a demand. There was no doubt in her mind she was addicted to this woman.

It didn't take long before she felt the first wave of an orgasm crash over Regina, her inner walls pulsing against Emma's fingers, thighs clamped over her ears. She didn't ease up until she felt the brunette push her head back, her body twitching slightly from the aftershocks.

Regina looked down at the woman between her legs, saw the wetness on her face as a reflection from the light coming in through the barely open curtain. She pulled Emma up over her body, claiming her lips with her own, tasting herself on them. The blonde lifted herself up, legs straddling over Regina's hips, and began to rock against her.

As Regina looked up at this woman above her she could feel the spark inside her, tethering itself to Emma's thread. For the barest whisper of a moment in the heartbeat of time panic seized her, but was dispelled almost as quickly at the soft moans coming from this beautiful woman. Her hands trailed along the inner thighs of Emma, slipping one hand between them as the other sought out a hardened nipple, pinching at it softly. The groan from above caused a smile to tug at the corners of Regina's mouth and she slipped two fingers inside Emma, feeling the blonde rocking harder as her breath started to come out in shorter gasps.

As with her own, it did not take long for the blonde to throw her head back in a silent cry of hedonistic pleasure and Regina knew she was completely taken over by this woman; could spend her lifetime watching her unravel so beautifully before her. Any other coherent thought was summarily dismissed as the younger woman lay down against Regina, planting soft kisses against her collarbone.

Idly Regina ran her hand along the other woman's back, tracing lines against the silky skin beneath her fingertips. She was so lost in the feeling of this woman laying moulded against her body that it took her a few minutes to realize Emma's breathing had slowed down, her body relaxed against her own. Smiling softly to herself she pulled the covers over them and held the blonde woman to her, a feeling of rightness washing over her as she closed her eyes to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Jo, who has done fantastic work making sure this story is good enough to see the light of day :)**

* * *

o

* * *

Emma gasped as she was pulled from her dream world, a low moan escaping her lips. Reaching out she tangled her fingers in soft, chestnut brown hair as her body arched to meet that of the woman above her.

Regina raised her eyes as she heard the first moan from the blonde, catching her forest-green eyes and holding them as she released the now hard nipple from her mouth with a satisfying pop. The fog of sleep that Regina had seen present in Emma's eyes was fast giving way to a look of pure desire, pupils already dilating as she anticipated what was to come. The fingers threading through Regina's hair held her head close and she couldn't help but hum softly in appreciation of the beautiful woman before her.

As Regina's lips travelled lower leaving a blazing trail of kisses in her wake, her left hand made its way down and was now gently teasing at Emma's entrance. Slowly but surely the brunette's mouth reached its destination and sucked gently at the small bundle of nerves before her. As she buried two fingers knuckle deep in the blonde's wet heat the body below her arched again, quickly matching Regina's rhythm. With her right arm she snaked her way around the blonde's thigh and placed her hand on her stomach effectively stilling her. Regina knew she was close and with that she added a third finger and increased her pace whilst lightly grazing Emma's clit with her teeth

It was with this that Emma crested, finally tumbling over the edge, and Regina was more than happy to catch her as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Eventually the hand on the back of her head disentangled itself from her hair and she slipped her fingers out, taking the time to savour the woman's heady arousal. If Regina was to be honest with herself, she believed she could do this every day; the blonde looking so peaceful, flushed and completely and utterly undone was probably the most stunning sight Regina could ever remember seeing.

She moved up over Emma's body, capturing her mouth with her own.

"Gods, Regina," Emma said as they finally broke their kiss, "a girl could get used to waking up like that."

Regina rolled to her side and began tracing lazy lines over Emma's exposed stomach, watching as the muscles tensed and quivered slightly at the contact.

"Only if it's me doing the waking," Regina replied and was rewarded with Emma snaking her hand around the back of her head, pulling her in for another deep kiss.

"Have you thought any more about what I said last night?" Regina asked as they broke apart once more as oxygen became an issue.

Emma smiled up at the loving features of the woman next to her; her deep brown eyes the colour of a fine cognac, drawing her inexplicably forward in to a new beginning - a spark of fire smouldering deep within. _Double or nothing, Em_, she thought and finally, for the first time in her life, went the way of the gambler.

"If the offer is still there, then yes, I will move. I will follow you to Maine."

A smile of pure joy broke across Regina's face as she captured the blonde's lips one more time. She wouldn't question why the impossible spark was granting her a second chance, wouldn't shy from the tether that now joined the pair, stronger than any _'til death us do part_ spoken from a preacher; she would simply accept that for the second time in her life she may indeed have her chance at a happy ending.

"I'm going to take a shower and then get us some breakfast," she glanced at the bedside clock before amending her statement, "or lunch, as seems more appropriate."

* * *

o

* * *

Emma watched as Regina headed for the bathroom, her naked hips swaying as she walked. If she didn't know better, she'd have believed there was something almost magical about the woman, a siren straight from any Greek myth, calling to her with her sweet melody. She smiled softly, allowing herself to enjoy the comforts of this bed, these sheets and the memories the pair had made the night before.

She felt a small shiver of arousal as her mind floated back. After the first, almost desperate touches, their consecutive love making had focused on exploration of each other; an almost reverence in their mutual contact as two bodies joined and became as one. The brunette had been so yielding under her hands, under her tongue; Emma had been in awe that Regina had wanted her just as much, could see the hunger in her honey-brown eyes and she found herself succumbing to the same need, the same desire. They had spent the better part of the night alternating between heated passion and exhausted sleep, breaking the cycle only once for late night room service - however the food had quickly been discarded in favour of other activities.

Gods knew she could spend a life time exploring this woman and never feel content with what she had discovered; she would always want more. For once Emma decided not to question, not to over-analyze; for once she would follow her heart.

She rolled over, looking out between the crack in the curtains, the sunlight streaming in across the carpeted floor. The sapphire blue sky looked enticing and she smiled. Yes, today was a good day.

Her eyes roamed around the room, falling to an armchair in the corner where her bag had been thrown, a small wrapped toy having fallen from it. The smile slipped from her face as she stared at the tiny parcel; her yearly ritual. She would have to make sure to put it in a charity bin before she left today. In her more private moments she would let herself imagine what it might have been like, to have been able to offer the type of life a child would want. The nurses had offered him to her to hold after she had given birth, but she had refused, she knew that if she so much as looked in his eyes she would be unable to act so selflessly, she would be unable to put his interests before her own. Her only comfort now was once a year buying a small gift and leaving it with a charity, hoping it would find its way to another child in need of a smile.

She turned back towards the bathroom door as she heard the water from the shower stop. The woman beyond the door had a young son herself, she'd mentioned it the previous night - felt it was important to be upfront about that. Emma felt that she should have been concerned, that perhaps there would be some nagging doubt in the back of her mind - but she felt nothing but a sense of peace and rightness about the situation. Still watching the bathroom door she was rewarded minutes later as Regina stepped through the doorway, a white towel around her hair but otherwise as naked as the day she was born. Subconsciously Emma licked her lips and felt her smile return.

Emma rose up to her knees as Regina made her way past the bed, grabbing the brunette by the waist and pulling her down on top of her. Smiling she watched as the brunette lifted herself up, straddling herself over Emma's hips, the towel falling from her head. Emma reached up and ran her fingers through damp, chocolate-brown hair, tracing a finger down the brunette's jaw before cupping her cheek with her hand.

"Gods you're beautiful," she whispered, almost in reverence, her forest-green eyes alight with wonder. She slid her hands down Regina's body, holding on to the older woman's hips as she pulled her closer, delighted when she heard the soft sounds of laughter coming from above.

"And you, my dear, are insatiable," Regina answered, but not before she started leisurely moving against the blonde below her, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Emma watched in rapt attention as the woman above her slowly became unravelled; chocolate brown eyes darkening to black coal as her desire thrummed through her. Her hands never left the brunette's hips, guiding her, pulling her, encouraged by every soft moan and whimper.

It did not take long for Regina to throw her head back in a silent scream and Emma ran her hand up between the older woman's breasts, a thin film of sweat on her skin. She could feel the rapid beating below her hand and she smiled as she splayed her fingers over the brunette's heart. She could get very used to this.

Regina took Emma's hand and kissed the palm, smiling down at her.

"We could just get room service again," Emma offered.

Regina took a moment to eye the last lot of room service they had, most of it was still on the plates - more a testament to its quality than their own desire for food. Emma's stomach took that opportunity to make itself known and emitted a low growl.

"I think maybe I'll chance a trip to Mama's for us," Regina replied. She slipped off Emma's hips and started to move around the room, finding clothes and dressing as she went.

Emma's eyes followed Regina's movements as she clothed herself again and fixed her hair and makeup. Even wearing mostly yesterday's clothes she still looked impeccable; Emma wondered how she managed to pull that off.

"A kiss for the road?" she asked as Regina was ready to leave.

"How could I say no?"

With that Emma was pulled in to a deep kiss and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that this is what it felt like to be in love.

* * *

o

* * *

"Regina!" Mama exclaimed, moving out from behind the counter to grasp the other woman by the hands, kissing each cheek in turn. "I didn't think I would see you today."

Regina looked quizzically at the older woman. "Why ever not?" she queried.

Mama let out a hearty laugh. "I am not so old and blind that I do not see love when it is acting so openly on my own doorstep. I thought perhaps love would keep you indoors today as well."

Regina had the good grace to blush. "I'm sorry, Mama, if we offended.." she began, but was quieted as Mama raised a hand.

"Nonsense. I am happy that Emma has finally found someone who will look after her and cherish her as she deserves."

"And I plan to do just that, Mama."

"Good. Now, what can I get you both, hmm?"

Regina ordered two coffees and two slices of apple pie, happy to wait as the pie was still a few minutes away from coming out of the oven. She headed over to the bookshelf at the back of the room whilst Mama headed in to the kitchen; she scanned the titles of the books without really taking in any information. She had not felt this happy in such a long time. On one hand, she believed, she could count the number of times she had been truly happy. First with Daniel, then with Henry and now she had Emma.

She didn't understand how or why that impossible spark could even exist in this place without magic, why it had decided to give her a second chance or what she had done to deserve such a thing; but she knew she would not squander it, she would revel in it. She felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth and she allowed it to come forth, lighting her entire face. If she were honest with herself, she had been completely unprepared for this from the moment she had stepped off the plane, but there was something so right in it all that she couldn't help but believe this was almost fate. Who else could she trust in Henry's life if not his birth mother? And she knew Emma had felt the spark, knew it was inside the blonde as much as it was inside herself; knew that they had tethered the sparks to each other and whilst they still had much to learn of one another, they would be moving in the right direction, together.

She was pulled from her thoughts as she heard Mama calling to her. She paid and bid the older woman a good day as she headed back to the hotel, finding herself humming as she walked.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma sighed and rolled out of bed, running her fingers through her tangled hair, wincing slightly when they caught a knot. She groaned softly as she stood up, stretching her arms above her head, relishing the feel of her muscles and joints moving. She padded her way in to the bathroom and turned the hot water on as she looked at herself in the mirror, waiting for the water to heat up. For the first time in a long time her face was free of tension and she couldn't hide the smile that found its way to the surface. She lifted her hands up to her hair, working it in to a bun - she didn't want to take the time to wash and dry her hair, not with Regina being less than half an hour away.

She slipped her hand under the flowing water, adding some cold as she tested the temperature before stepping in to the shower. A sigh of appreciation escaped her lips as the hot water worked its way over her body, over her shoulders and down her torso; little rivulets of water dancing their way across her skin.

Emma thought about the things she would have to do today; everything from dropping off the toy to the nearest charity to calling her boss and resigning from work to packing up her meagre possessions. Her stomach fluttered at the prospect, nervous about moving for the first time she could remember. She opened a packet of what appeared to be a hotel supplied loofah and squirted some of Regina's body-wash on to it, letting the soap do its magic. She inhaled the scent softly and smiled.

The water ran hot over her as she rinsed herself off and she allowed herself to stand for a few more moments in the cleansing jets before finally turning off the taps and stepping out.

She found a spare towel and began patting herself dry. Idly she let her fingers trace the faint stretch marks she had from her son and once again found herself wondering how things might have been different. She shook her head as she dropped the towel to the ground, dismissing that train of thought. It didn't pay to dwell on the past, not when she had such a future to look forward to now.

As she exited the bathroom she eyed the bed in the centre of the room. Oh how easy it would be to climb back in between those sheets and wait for Regina to come back; but the day was quickly fading and Regina needed to be back in Maine. Emma could afford the delay, but without Regina here, there would be no point.

She moved around the hotel room in her quest for clothes. By the entry way she found her panties and jeans, laying in a heap where Regina had pushed them from her hips the night before - a faint shudder of arousal shot through her as she remembered those first touches and then all the subsequent ones.

It took her a few more minutes to find her tank top mysteriously behind a small table which had a phone and the hotel menu on it. _Fantastic_, she thought, _I'm three for four on clothes. Where in the hell is my bra?_ She searched high and low for the bra, even throwing back all the bed covers in case it had been tangled within, looked behind the two seats that were in the room, even behind the television. Finally, sighing in irritation, she got down on her hands and knees and looked under the bed. She shook her head slightly as she laughed to herself, wondering how on earth her bra had made it under there.

As she was moving to stand up she noticed a few papers against the wall towards the head of the bed. _If these are from Regina's work, she's going to want them_, she told herself as she wriggled further under the bed to pull out the couple of sheets of paper. _Clearly housekeeping doesn't often make it this far_, she thought as she coughed. Sliding back out she put the paper on the nightstand next to the bed as she resumed getting dressed. She took another cursory look around the room for socks, but gave them up as lost. She hadn't found them on her original passes for clothes and she wasn't really that concerned about a pair of Daffy Duck socks anyway.

She pushed up a few pillows to the head of the bed and sat back against them as she flicked the tv on with the remote as she waited for Regina to return with lunch. Oprah Winfrey *click* Dr Phil *click* Ellen - ok, this can stay. She reached back over to put the remote on the nightstand, her eyes inadvertently glancing over the sheets of paper she'd pulled out from under the bed.

Two words caught her eye immediately: Emma Swan.

She gulped and re-read the words again.

With shaking hands she picked up the sheets of paper, Ellen dancing through the studio audience quickly becoming white noise to the pounding in Emma's ears. She felt her blood drain as her body temperature dropped; found she was thankful for having no food in her stomach as she dry retched. Here was Emma Swan in black and white; her age, her suspected date of birth, the foster homes she'd been through, her time in juvie, every address she'd had since she was born. For the first time in her life she wondered if she was asthmatic as she began to gasp for breath. As she flipped the page she found her more current personal habits - her work at the diner, her boss's name, where she spent her free time; the list went on.

She felt herself grinding her jaw, the tension becoming painful, but she refused to stop. Refused because she knew the alternative would be to let the tears fall, the tears she was struggling so hard to hold back.

_Maybe there's a good explanation for this_, she tried to reason with herself, but that sounded hollow even to her own ears. _Double or nothing, Em?_ Her mind queried her - but she already knew the answer, it's what it should have been all along. She should know by now when to cut her losses.

Slowly she stood up and placed the two sheets of paper back on the nightstand; walking over to her bag she pulled out the pen from inside and walked back to the paper, marking down a few words upon it before she went to the door, put her boots on and left.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina slipped the key card in to the lock and pushed the door open, hearing Ellen interviewing some new upcoming actress on the tv in the background.

"Emma, I'm back," she called out in to the room as she closed the door behind her, kicking off her heels once again.

She walked in to the room proper and set the coffee and pie down on the table, noting the room to be empty but the bathroom door closed.

"Hey," she called out towards the bathroom, "I'm going to start packing. We're on the early flight tonight, but it means we'll get in around midnight. It shouldn't take us long from the airport." Regina started to move around methodically as she began to pack her suitcase, taking the occasional sip of the coffee and the more seldom bite of the pie. The coffee could claim to be the best she had ever tasted, but she knew her own apple pies would beat this one hands down. She smiled as she thought about baking one for Emma. _Gods, now this is just getting pathetic. Baking?_ She almost laughed at herself, only catching herself from doing so as she noticed that Emma's bag was missing from the chair.

Something felt wrong.

She turned and walked over to the bathroom door, rapping on it lightly with her knuckles.

"Hey Emma, you ok in there?" She waited for a reply, counted to ten, then slowly turned the handle, pushing the door open.

What greeted her was a bathroom devoid of Emma Swan, only a wet towel lay on the floor.

Regina felt her stomach sink as she turned worriedly back in to the room, taking notice once more of the missing bag and the missing clothes. She ran to the door and threw it open, looking frantically up and down the corridor.

"Emma!" she called out, but was greeted only with silence.

She closed the door behind her as she backed her way into the room, her legs giving out as she fell to the bed. _No, this can't be happening, it just can't_. She felt as if her entire world had been turned inside out.

It was from this position she noticed two sheets of paper on the bedside table and felt her blood freeze with recognition of what they were. _Gods no_, she thought as she reached for them, noticing red writing across the top.

**If only you'd just asked me.**

Regina howled in anguish as she read and re-read those words. For the second time in her life she felt as if her heart had been ripped from her chest. Her blood pounded in her ears and her brain threatened to lose consciousness. How had she been so careless, so stupid?

The minutes dragged on and she allowed her fear and weakness to consume her, to bring up every painful image she could, for her mind to play 'what if' and end with her a bitter, old woman with no redemption, no happy ending.

Then slowly, purposefully, she stood back up and went to the door, grabbing her handbag on the way as she slipped her feet back in to her high heels.

She would find Emma Swan and she would bring her home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Many thanks to my beta, Jo, who has done fantastic work making sure this story is good enough to see the light of day :)**

* * *

o

* * *

Regina pulled her car up outside Emma's apartment complex; a four story brick building in a run down neighbourhood. She'd long since memorized every fact in Emma's file, and the GPS provided with her rental had gotten her there quickly. A stray dog ran past her and headed behind an over-flowing dumpster as she clicked the remote to lock the car. There was an old man sitting in the doorway of an adjoining building, smoking a pipe and watching the brunette thoughtfully; his grey tweed flat cap sitting slightly lopsided upon his head.

Regina felt her stomach clench in unmitigated fear - Emma had to be here, she wasn't sure if she would be able to handle the alternative. She strode purposefully to the buzzer of the building, pressing Emma's apartment button without pause.

"C'mon Emma, please answer," she muttered to herself, throwing a prayer to whichever gods may be listening. She may not have been a religious person, but she thought it wise to cover all her bases. She pushed the buzzer again, holding her breath as she waited. Agitation rose in the brunette as another ripple of terror and self-loathing passed through her. For a third time she pushed on the buzzer and still the silence continued to greet her. In frustration she lashed out, hitting the solid brick wall with the palm of her hand, glaring at the apartment buzzers as if they were personally responsible for the mess in which she currently found herself.

She tried, futilely, to open the security door, unsurprised to find it locked from the inside. From back in the street she heard the hacking cough of the old man at the adjoining building. Moving back out from the small alcove she strode up to the man, looking at him as he took another puff from his pipe, the beige sports coat he was wearing clearly a few sizes too large for him.

"Do you know Emma? The blonde woman who lives on the second floor?" she asked, barely concealing the panic that was steadily rising within her.

The old man lifted his eyes to the brunette, the smoky white of his evident cataracts obvious to Regina. He shrugged his shoulders deeply, grunting noncommittally.

Regina clenched her jaw, a movement mirrored by her fists balling at her sides. Stepping back away from the man she moved briskly back to the front of the building.

"Emma!" she called loudly as she stared up to the second floor, pausing briefly to listen for a response. When none was forthcoming, she called out again.

A small, elderly woman appeared on the third floor balcony.

"Hey!" she yelled down to Regina in a thick Asian accent, "you be quiet!"

"I need to speak with Emma," Regina had shouted back as her reply.

"No! You stop yelling. You as bad as other girl. All yelling and crying and throwing things. You stop now or I call police!"

Regina felt her heart sink, amazed it could fall further than it had already. "What other girl?" she called up to the elderly woman.

"Girl below here," she replied, pointing with emphasis to the apartment directly below her own.

"Is she there now?" Regina asked before once again calling out Emma's name.

"Who cares! Now you be quiet!" the elderly lady spat back before disappearing inside her apartment, muttering foreign curses.

Regina watched the departing form of the older lady; her breath hitching as she wrapped her shaking arms around her own torso, trying to hold herself together. She hung her head as she felt bile rise in her throat; leaning back against the hood of her rental she fought for breath.

"Hey lady," she heard, a deep southern accent coming from Emma's apartment block. Lifting her head she noticed the old man holding open the security door, slipping his keys back in to his pocket. "Go find her," he said, nodding more to himself than the brunette.

Regina pushed herself off the car, thanking the old man profusely as she dashed past him, unable to contain the hope she held in her eyes.

Within moments she had ascended the flights of stairs to Emma's apartment and stood outside her door.

"Emma," she called through the door, "Emma please, if you're there let me in, let me explain."

She raised her hand to knock on the door, her stomach dropping as the first knock pushed at the door, allowing it to swing open slowly on its creaking hinges.

"Emma?" she called, trepidation sparking through her voice. Carefully she raised her hand to the door, feeling the white paint flake off as she pushed it open the remaining distance. Taking a deep breath she crossed the threshold of the doorway, entering the small, cramped apartment.

What greeted her eyes was nothing short of a disaster zone, as if Cyclone Emma had torn the place apart. Books and magazines had been swiped unceremoniously from the kitchen table and found themselves laying strewn across the stained, white vinyl floor covering; an array of glass, cheap porcelain and plaster chips were littered at the base of a wall across the other side of the room - small holes gouged in the walls from the force of the impact. A sole cup remained the only survivor, its presence in stark contrast to the outrage that had surrounded it. The toaster, she noticed, had received a softer landing on the couch, but evidently the small television was to bear the brunt of her anger as it had been pulled down from the black, laminated chipboard stand it had once resided upon.

Cringing she moved through the house, down the narrow hallway over threadbare carpet, its original colour having faded many years prior.

"Emma?" she called out quietly, hope and fear warring within.

She pushed open the first of the two doors within the apartment, finding it to be the bathroom. The small medicine cabinet door was ajar, a huge crack scarring the mirror on the front - a half empty tube of toothpaste all that remained inside; the cheap, plastic shower curtain lay torn from its rings in the bathtub. Regina gulped for air as she moved out of the bathroom.

She knew, before she walked in to the last room that Emma was not here, knew that this apartment was nothing more than an empty shell of what once had been.

She crossed the entrance in to Emma's bedroom; the single faux wooden dresser had its drawers open, two of the five thrown haphazardly on to the carpeted floor. A handful of clothes was all that remained, strewn in amongst scattered papers and ornaments.

Regina sank down on to the bed, springs creaking their protest, as she put her hands to her face and allowed the tears to flow unabated. Her body shook in desolate emptiness, unable to suppress the sobs wracking her fragile frame. Her arms wound around her waist again, tears - hot and salty - slipped down her cheeks, dripping on to her forearms as her fingers dug in to her sides. The wreckage here, she knew, was her fault.

Slowly time passed and her tears began to ease; she looked around the room once more. _Maybe she hasn't left town yet_, Regina thought as she remembered back to yesterday's conversation. Mama and Joe had been like the parents Emma had never had, maybe, just maybe, she could find her.

With her mind set to this new course of action, she stood up from the bed and made to exit the room. It was from the corner of her eye that she noticed a small piece of paper amongst the mess, something on it caught her attention. Carefully she bent down and picked it up, her lower lip trembling as she suppressed a fresh wave of tears as she realized it was an ultrasound picture of Henry.

Putting the photo in her purse she left the apartment. She would find Emma.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma hit the steering wheel of the car with the palm of her hand, her frustrations boiling over once more. She'd been driving for the past hour, driving west with anger and tears clouding her vision. On repeated occasions she found herself wiping her eyes with the back of the sleeve of her jacket. She groaned in frustration and shook her head to clear her mind. _Give me a time machine_, she thought to herself, _just take me back 48 hours_. She loosed her grip on the steering wheel as she spotted her knuckles turning white; softly she groaned again.

Looking in her rear vision mirror she noticed the couple of boxes and single bag on the back seat of her car - all her worldly possessions. _What a singularly uninspired life_, she mused silently to herself; her entire existence brought down to three containers of accumulated wealth. She wiped at her traitorous tears once again.

She'd kicked herself mentally the moment she'd heard the heavy hotel door click closed behind her that afternoon; kicked herself for believing the lie, for _wanting_ to believe it. The moment the door had closed she'd realized she had left her gift-wrapped toy upon the chair and she found she had to stifle an unfounded scream at the sense of loss it provoked. She could have bought another one, she supposed, but so many things were broken now and it seemed foolish of her to maintain such a ritual.

She shook as a sob left her chest at the memory of honey brown eyes looking deep within her own, of a vulnerability expressed, trusting that it would be held and not shattered like glass upon concrete. She laughed derisively at her own naivety, her own stupidity, for believing this woman felt as she did; that the touches they shared were anything more than bait for something else. She couldn't fathom why Regina would have a file on her, why her every movement had been tracked and categorized. _And you never stuck around to find out either_, her mind told her, disloyal as always. There was no explanation that would make this alright.

She knew, deep down, she should have cut her losses; knew that double or nothing had never won anybody anything. More the fool she for thinking it would be different. But gods, had she believed in fairy tales she may have thought Regina had woven a spell over her. Never before had she cared if a one night stand had used her; and if she were brutally honest with herself, that's really all Regina had been. A truly magnificent, beautiful, one night stand. A one night stand who had moved something within her that she thought could never be touched, that would never see the light.

Emma pulled off to the side of the road, listening as a truck sped past, blaring its horn. She let the tears fall freely from her eyes as she closed them against the harsh realities of the day. In doing so all she left herself with was the burning image of a stunningly gorgeous woman with chestnut brown hair, who held a spark in her wide, trusting eyes and beyond all semblance of reason, had left a piece of herself carved into the blonde's chest.

Hitting the steering wheel one more time Emma started the motor and pulled back out on the road, leaving Tallahassee behind her once and for all.

* * *

o

* * *

"We're closed," Joe said as he heard knocking against the door of his bar, "come back in an hour."

The knocking continued unabated, the muffled sound of a woman's voice drifting through.

Sighing deeply he stopped restocking the bar and headed to the front door, opening it a small margin, his eyes narrowing as he recognized the slender brunette before him. She looked a mess.

"Joe, please, I know you don't know me but I need to find.." Regina began.

"Save it," Joe said, "you're not welcome here." He moved to close the door again, a puzzled look crossing his features when the door did not close as expected. Looking down he noticed a foot wedged between it and the frame. He grunted in irritation.

"Please. Joe, please," she begged, her hand resting on the heavy wooden door, lightly applying pressure against it.

He looked at the woman before him, her eyes rimmed with red, bloodshot to their chocolate brown centre. _Gods, what a mess_, he thought to himself, his mind drifting back to Emma not more than an hour prior in much the same condition.

"I said you're not welcome."

"I have to find her Joe."

The woman's foot refused to move, refused to allow him to shut her out of this bar, out of his life. He exhaled loudly, finally opening the door to let her in. It wouldn't do to have an hysterical woman on his doorstep when he opened to trading in less than an hour.

Quietly he closed the door behind her as he moved back behind the bar, resuming his work restocking it. From his periphery he noticed the woman fidgeting, unable to keep herself still; finally he'd had enough.

"Haven't you caused enough damage?" he challenged her icily.

"You don't understand..." Regina began.

"I don't care to. Do you have any idea what you've done? What you've put her through? You don't get to come in here and demand, you have no idea what her life has been like, the sacrifices she's made. You do _not_ get to trample over it like it's your own private playground." Joe slammed his hands down on the counter in emphasis, glaring at the woman on the other side.

Regina all but trembled as his words crashed in to her, shaking her to the core. She had been out of practice, could not pull the walls up fast enough to protect herself.

"Joe, she's..."

"No, I'm not finished," he said, cutting her off. "Emma came by here earlier, saying she should have cut her losses," his voice dropped as he turned his back to Regina, staring up towards the ceiling in a bid to keep the tears in his eyes from falling. "She came by and she paid her tab." He shoved his hands deep in his pockets, refusing to turn back and face the other woman.

"I.. I don't under.."

"Don't understand?" He cut her off again. "Of course you wouldn't, you're in her life for all of five seconds." He turned around, glaring accusingly at the woman across the counter. "She's gone."

With that one admission, Joe felt himself deflate, the fight, the anger, dissipating from him like the morning fog. She'd been like the daughter he'd never had. His wife, god rest her soul, would have liked Emma.

"I tried calling, but her phone is just going to voicemail," Regina started, her voice barely audible.

"Yes, 16 times, I know." Joe reached under the counter and pulled out Emma's cell.

"Her phone," Regina exhaled, "she left it behind." It wasn't a question.

Joe nodded and returned it back underneath the counter. It would be the last thing he ever had from her and he knew he was being a sentimental old fool but he didn't care. Sighing softly he poured himself a drink of whiskey, tipped it back and swallowed it in one go.

Regina blinked, nodding her head slowly as she wrapped an arm around her stomach. Somewhere in the back of her mind she realized she had made this familiar gesture repeatedly today, a comforting gesture she had not had reason to make in many decades, not since she was a much younger woman. She swallowed as she turned.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," she said quietly as her feet led her to the door.

Joe looked up and watched as the woman began to leave.

"What was it?" he asked to her retreating form, "what was so damn important about Emma?"

Regina's footsteps faltered before she stopped. She turned her head to the side, as if to look over her shoulder, but not quite far enough to see the man in her peripheral vision. Quietly she answered him.

"She's the mother of my son."

With those words left to hang in the room she lowered her head, opened the door and left.

* * *

o

* * *

The flight back to Maine had been uneventful; seven hours of her time she would never get back, seven hours to collect her thoughts and process events, seven hours to plan her future.

_Crest-fallen after her meeting with Joe she'd almost decided against going to see Mama; but if Mama hadn't heard that Emma left town, she would want to know and Regina felt the burden of delivering that information herself._

_As Regina tried to gather herself before entering the shop she wondered what she could possibly say to this kindly older lady to make things alright. Nothing, she knew, would ever be alright again. The way her eyes had lit up when Emma had stepped through the door, how she had held her hands and kissed her cheeks; this was just another family Regina had seemed destined to destroy. She bit on her lower lip as she wrung her hands, trying to shake the nervous energy. Expecting a reception much the same as from Joe, she steeled herself and stepped through the doorway._

_"Regina!" the older woman had exclaimed, running up to her, claiming her hands in her own and kissing her cheeks. The sad smile on the older woman's face betrayed the knowledge of Emma's departure._

_"I'm sorry, Mama," Regina had said, her voice breaking as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. If the small shop had held any customers, Regina was unaware, her world shrinking to the space encompassed by herself and the elderly lady before her._

_"No, no, child, hush. This isn't your fault."_

_"Mama," Regina had exhaled softly, "it is all my fault."_

_"No, bambina, Joe already told me. You may not have gone about everything the proper way, but the outcome would have been the same. Emma runs, it's what she does." Mama's voice had been full of sadness, full of empathy._

_Regina had blinked, a hot, salty tear escaping before she could stop its slow passage down her cheek. She sighed as Mama brushed it away._

_"No more tears, child. Emma has run as she would always have done. But the question is, what will you do? Will you follow?"_

_"I don't even know where to start looking. And our son..." she trailed off._

_"Nonsense. I have seen it, the spark, she has your thread. You will find her again. And she will find you. Family always finds each other."_

_Regina had snapped her eyes back to the older woman, wanting to question her, aching to know what she knew; but to her dismay Mama guided her to the doorway of her shop._

_"Go, child, see to your son. You will find Emma if that is truly what you desire."_

_Slowly she had turned from Mama and walked back to the hotel. Back to the place where her life had most recently fallen apart._

_As she had finished packing she'd noticed Emma had left the wrapped toy upon the chair; whether by accident or choice, Regina did not know. Carefully she had made room for it in her suitcase. A sad smile had crossed her face as she found a pair of Daffy Duck socks under the nightstand and she hadn't hesitated in packing those as well. She knew, as she'd closed that hotel door for the last time, that she had found Emma Swan once before, knew without a doubt she would find her again; the magic of the spark held them together and she would bring her true love home._

She pulled up in her Mercedes quietly alongside the curb at Kathryn Nolan's house, the stillness of the night compounding upon her. It was late, very late, but she desperately wanted to see Henry and wrap her arms around him; find some measure of peace. Gently she rapped on the door and waited as she saw lights within the house start to turn on. A few moments later the door opened.

"Regina," Kathryn whispered as she opened the door wider to allow the brunette inside, "I wasn't expecting you until the morning." She hugged her robe tighter to her as a yawn escaped from her lips.

Regina moved past the blonde woman and into the house, turning to look back at Kathryn as she closed the door.

"I trust everything was well here?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"Oh yes," Kathryn smiled, "he missed you terribly of course, but we had lots of fun drawing and playing; he'll be so happy to see you. He really is a wonderful boy."

Regina couldn't hide the swell of pride in her chest at those words, she loved Henry so dearly.

"Can I offer you a drink? I know it's late and all..." Kathryn glanced at a clock, noticing it was well past midnight.

"No, thank you. Another time perhaps? I really would just like to get Henry back home and head to bed myself. It's been a long few days."

"Of course," Kathryn replied. She led Regina upstairs to the guest bedroom where Henry lay sleeping.

Regina walked in to the room, Henry's small night light the only illumination. She smiled as she took in the sight of this boy, a tangle of limbs and blankets in his Incredible Hulk pyjamas. She felt a lump in her throat form, her love for this small child was all encompassing. Softly she brushed a few strands of hair from Henry's face, watching as his eyes, unfocused, fluttered opened.

"Mommy," he mumbled sleepily.

"I'm here baby," she said to him, running her fingers through his hair before gently scooping him up in to her arms. As Henry wrapped his small arms around her neck she let out a soft sigh of contentment and she felt her heart melt just a little bit more. "Let's get you home, sweetheart," she added, but already he was fast asleep in her embrace.

Turning towards Kathryn she smiled. "Thank you so much for taking care of him for me," she said quietly.

"Anytime you need, he was an absolute angel," Kathryn replied.

Regina followed as Kathryn held open the front door of the house and was grateful when she also opened the car door so Regina could put Henry in without waking him up. She turned to the blonde woman and gave her a quick hug. "I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked.

The blonde woman nodded her agreement, trying her best to stifle another yawn.

Regina laughed quietly. "Go back to bed. Thank you once again for looking after my son." She watched as Kathryn smiled and headed back in to her house, watched as the lights turned off one by one.

Climbing in to the car she turned to look at Henry and smiled at the peace that was so evident upon his face.

She started up the car and drove back to her own place, lost in her own thoughts for the mile it took to reach their home.

Regina unlocked and opened the front door before returning to the car to pick up Henry, kicking the door softly closed behind her before carrying him upstairs to his own room. She tucked him in, leaning down to kiss him softly on his forehead. "Sweet dreams, my darling," she murmured tenderly.

"Love you, Mommy," came a sleepy reply.

"I love you too, Henry," Regina said, truly feeling in her heart the depths of that emotion.

Quietly she pulled the door partially closed, leaving enough of a gap to hear if he called out to her in the night as he did at times.

Wearily she made her way to her own room, the events of the day weighing heavily upon her. Tonight she should have brought Emma home, should have had her in her house and should, at this moment, be making love to the most stunningly beautiful woman she had ever had the opportunity to lay her eyes upon. She had made plans earlier for Henry to stay the extra night with Kathryn so herself and Emma would have the house to themselves; carefully constructed plans laid to waste so easily.

Slowly she began to undress herself, throwing some items in the hamper to be washed whilst others were placed on the back of a chair to be taken to the drycleaners on Monday morning. Idly she allowed her fingers to roam across her stomach, closing her eyes briefly as she felt the ghost of Emma's fingers having travelled that same path less than 24 hours ago. She exhaled softly at the memory before releasing it from her mind, opening her eyes once more.

Reaching underneath her pillow she found her black satin pyjamas, relishing the feel of the material against her skin. She sighed in contentment as her egyptian cotton sheets called to her their siren's song, seducing her in to slumber.

As sleep came to claim her, the impossible spark fired off soft flickers in her mind, taking her to a magical place beyond time, to a place filled with dreams of Emma Swan.

* * *

o

* * *

_She'd spent the better part of seven hours driving west out of Tallahassee, stopping only for gas, until her need for food and rest had finally started to become overwhelming. She'd pulled in to a little 24 hour road side diner on the outskirts of Baton Rouge which backed on to a small, budget motel. The diner had been all but empty at this hour of the night, one lone customer sitting at the counter nursing what she assumed was a cup of hot coffee and staring dejectedly at a slice of pumpkin pie._

_Clearing her throat as she approached the cash register, she caught the attention of the young boy behind the counter. Idly she had wondered if he had even reached minimum working age to be here, let alone what kind of parents would allow him to be at a road side diner at this hour of the night. Dutifully she had kept her opinions to herself, ordering a coffee and a grilled cheese to go, grateful when the kid behind the counter slipped her order to someone else working in the kitchen._

_The man at the counter had given her a cursory look when she had approached the register, but had since seemed to slip back in to his own thoughts. She paced as much as the small diner would allow, stretching out limbs that had been cramped within her car for far too long. Her neck cracked as she stretched her head to the side, ear almost touching her shoulder. It was then she spotted a payphone from the corner of her eye. Slipping in a few coins she dialled the only number she could think, the only person she'd kept in sparse contact with over the years._

"Hello?" _a voice, slurred with sleep, had answered on the fourth ring._

"Hey, Dean,"_ she'd replied._

"Emma?"

"Yeah."

_There had been a heavy sigh and a creak of bed springs as Dean had shifted his weight._

"What's wrong?"

_She'd bitten her lip at this question, knowing the truth wasn't an option. But then again, with Dean, the truth had never really mattered. Foster homes had brought them together on multiple occasions, no experience for either of them being anything more than a meal ticket for the family who took them in._

"I'm in Baton Rouge."

"Are you heading out here?"

_That was the sixty four thousand dollar question. She had no destination in mind, nothing beyond her need to leave, to get as far away from Tallahassee, from Regina, from everything, as possible. Texas was as good a place as any._

"Yeah."

_There was a pause and a slight muting of the phone as she heard him pass his hand over the receiver; muffled voices in the background._

"When will you be here?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, I guess."

_Another pause. This had been a stupid idea. She sighed in to the phone, ready to tell him she wouldn't be coming after all._

"Ok Em, I'll see you tomorrow. Drive safely, ok?"

_There was no tenderness in his voice, only weariness. She fidgeted; she could still change her mind._

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow."

_She hung up the phone as she heard the scratchy voice of the teenager behind the counter tell her that her order was ready. Tiredly she left the money on the counter as she took the styrofoam cup of hot coffee and the white paper bag containing her grilled cheese. She juggled both items as she dug deep in to the pocket of her skinny jeans to retrieve her car key before she was able to slump down in to her car seat. It wasn't the best plan she'd ever come up with, but then again, she wasn't known for making any real plans. She'd stay in Austin until something better came along._

_She dug in to her grilled cheese, almost inhaling her coffee; she hadn't realized how hungry she had been, nor how much she had needed the caffeine hit. A wave of regret rolled over her as she thought about Mama's coffee, about how she had left without saying goodbye. Truthfully, she was afraid if she had gone to see Mama she would have been talked in to staying, and Emma Swan never stayed._

_She'd only meant to close her eyes for a few moments, but the day had weighed so heavily upon her and her stomach was finally full; she felt satiated of body, if not of mind. And so she'd slept, blissfully devoid of dreams. _

Emma lurched forward as she was startled awake, the incessant tapping on the window beside her dragging her from slumber. Carefully she wound down her window, affecting an innocent smile to the man outside.

"Can I help you, officer?" she asked.

"You can't stay parked here, Ma'am," the officer had replied, "this is for customers and guests only. You'll have to move along."

"Sorry, officer, I'll be on my way," she said as she fumbled for the car keys in her pocket.

"See that you do," he'd replied before turning on his heel and walking back to his patrol car.

To Emma's dismay he waited in the car park to make sure she left. Cringing softly at the cramps in her back and neck, she wound her window back up, turned the motor on and pulled out of the parking lot on to the main road. She had another long day of driving ahead of her.

* * *

o

* * *

With the intuition only a mother could have, Regina awoke only moments before a small bundle of six year old limbs, body and Incredible Hulk pyjamas came launching off the carpet beside the bed, landing on her lean frame hidden beneath soft cotton sheets and a light duvet. Grunting as she managed to only slightly dodge the full impact, she couldn't help but smile at the delight playing upon Henry's face.

"It's my birthday!" he'd all but squealed mid-flight to Regina's stomach, landing awkwardly as he wrapped his tiny arms around her.

"So it is, my prince. You're getting to be such a big boy now," she'd said as she brushed his soft, brown hair from his face, looking in to his wide, trusting eyes.

Carefully she had glanced at the clock beside the bed, thrilled to see he'd slept in a whole hour later this year than last year's 5.30am effort.

"And what does my prince want for breakfast on his birthday?" she asked, already knowing full well the answer.

"Pancakes!" his little lungs had cried out as he squirmed off the bed before running out of the room. She heard his footfalls against the carpeted stairs and smiled to herself as she pushed the covers off; today was going to be a wonderful day.

Sitting up on the edge of the bed she ran her fingers through her hair before pushing her feet in to fluffy, grey slippers - complete with bunny ears and whiskers. She would never have bought these herself, would never have been seen dead in such a monstrosity of fashion, but Henry had bought these for her for Christmas - with the help of the local Sherriff, of course. Ever since then they had become one of her most prized possessions. She shrugged on her robe and pulled it tightly to her, smiling once more as she made her way downstairs and in to the kitchen.

Henry had already set the table for breakfast; the jar of maple syrup sitting prominently between the two empty plates, flanked by both sugar and cinnamon. She ruffled his hair as she walked past, finding herself rewarded when he turned a delighted smile in her direction.

"I made the table, Mom!" he exclaimed as she passed by, moving in to the kitchen.

"You 'set' the table," she corrected, "and you did a wonderful job." She opened up the cupboard as she started to gather the ingredients for the pancakes.

"Can I have a present?" he asked, unable to contain the excitement in his voice.

"Don't you want breakfast first, my prince?"

"Please Mommy?"

The puppy dog eyes were her undoing, she knew she could never say no to those.

"Ok, just one."

"Yay!" he yelled, jumping up and down with mounting excitement.

She headed in to the living room where all his presents were currently located, exhaling softly as she noticed the sheer amount of gifts she'd actually bought. She hadn't intended to go so overboard, but she had wanted so desperately for Henry to have a better childhood than she ever did. Carefully she selected one she knew he would like and could keep him entertained long enough for her to cook breakfast.

"Here you go, Henry. Happy birthday, my prince," she said as she returned to the kitchen, handing him her gift, watching with love as he raced back to the table to unwrap it. He spared no time in ripping the carefully wrapped present apart and Regina found herself smiling at the sight of his obvious joy.

"It's a book," Henry said, his voice sounding mildly disappointed.

"Not just any book," Regina had countered as she walked to him, leaning over his small frame as he sat in the chair. Carefully she turned to the first page, reading him the first sentence.

**Prince Henry was the wisest of rulers, the bravest of men. The people of the kingdom knew they would need his help to rescue the princess and slay the dragon.**

"That's me!" Henry had cried out with delight.

"Of course," Regina smiled, "and watch this." She flipped open the second page and stifled a laugh as Henry gasped; the castle had all but sprung forth from the book as the pages had opened, telling its story in three dimensions. "It's called a pop up book, Henry. All your brave deeds will burst from the pages."

She found she was unable to hold the laugh any longer as Henry continued to turn the pages, gasping as every new scene emerged from the book - seemingly larger than life. She'd been thrilled when she had found a website that specialized in making children's books more personalized, being able to tailor fit them to any child's name - and with more than two hundred titles, virtually every possible fantasy a child could want would be covered. With Henry's love of castles and fairytales, the choice had been simple.

Regina moved back to the kitchen and finished making the pancakes, shaping them as best she could in to all manner of animals, some mythical, some common. Together they had eaten their fill; herself preferring the maple syrup but Henry seeming to have taken a taste for sugar and cinnamon with his own. His chatter about the day ahead sparked a sense of well-being in Regina, happy that she was able to give her son the childhood she never had.

Once breakfast had been concluded and the dishes left in the sink to be dealt with later, Henry's begging and pleading for his presents had finally shifted in to overdrive. At her word he'd run in to the living room and sat down impatiently upon the carpeted floor, waiting for her to join him. She took the camera from the top shelf and followed him in moments later - prepared to take many photos of the day.

It was almost two hours later when Henry, exhausted from unwrapping his gifts and constantly changing games he was playing, finally came over and sat in Regina's lap. She slipped her arms around him and gave him a tight squeeze followed by a quick kiss to his forehead.

"Almost time to get ready, Henry, your birthday is only just getting started."

"I love my presents, Mommy," he said very solemnly, causing Regina's heart to clench slightly.

"Off you go, time for a shower," she said, giving him a gentle nudge so he would move from her lap.

He trudged up the stairs towards the bathroom, all his energy gone for the distasteful task of _bathing_. Regina shook her head, a smile spreading across her features as she watched his small frame ascend the stairs; she felt truly blessed.

Grabbing a spare garbage bag she began to clean up all the wrappings as she moved Henry's toys, books and games to the side. Everything with him right now was fairy tales and castles or the Incredible Hulk - buying gifts for him had been incredibly easy, but the sheer quantity of merchandise available had left Regina's purse considerably lighter.

It took her longer than she anticipated cleaning up the wrappings and washing the breakfast dishes and before long she heard Henry running down the stairs, eager to get on with the rest of the day.

"Mommy's just going to have a shower, my prince, I'll be down shortly and then we can go."

"Go where?" Henry had asked in wide-eyed awe.

"It's a surprise," Regina had said, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

She disappeared upstairs to her bathroom and sighed as she felt the first hot jets of water hit her body. It was here, in the privacy of her own bathroom, that she allowed the events of the previous day to push to the forefront of her mind. She had been so successful suppressing them in Henry's presence, his youthful exuberance overshadowing anything her mind may otherwise have wished for her to dwell upon; but now, with nothing to distract her, she wept openly for the mess she had made. She allowed herself this weakness, this vulnerability - knowing she was more than deserving of the self-inflicted pain. And so she let the tears fall down her cheeks, merging with the hot water of the shower; she stood, leaning her palms against the tiled wall and tried with all that she was to not feel the profound sense of loss Emma had created within her.

* * *

o

* * *

"Where are we going, Mommy?" Henry asked as he buckled up his seatbelt.

"To the park," Regina replied.

"We always go to the park."

"Oh this time it will be different, my prince, you'll see," Regina had answered.

However, nothing could have prepared Regina for the sight as she rounded the corner of the street and pulled in to the parking lot of the nearby park. She had hired two different jumping castles for Henry and the other children in Storybrooke and had asked Granny and Ruby to cater a children's birthday party. But looking at the number of people that were in the park, everyone in town had shown up. She certainly hoped that Granny had cooked enough food.

Her fears, as it turned out, were un-founded as tables from seemingly every resident in town were filled with food; chairs filled with adults sitting back and relaxing, enjoying a Sunday in the park with their children, friends and neighbours. For Henry's part, he could barely wait until the car had come to a stop before racing out to the nearest castle and throwing himself straight in to it. A clown off to the side was busy juggling coloured balls to the amusement of a small horde of children at his feet. Regina felt her heart swell, _this is how it should be for every child_, she thought.

She set out to meet Granny who she found sitting near the head of the closest table. Placing her hand on the older woman's shoulder, she managed to get her attention.

"Thank you so much for this," Regina had said gesturing to all the food on the tables - the truth of her gratitude evident in her voice.

Granny stood up, clasping Regina's hands in her own. "I am happy to do this. You do so much for our town, this is the least we can do in return."

Regina had been about to reply when a gentle cough from her side caught her attention. She'd turned to see Marco standing near to her, Archie and Kathryn not too far behind. She felt her breath catch as a pang of concern struck her. She couldn't bear it if her plan failed her today.

"Is everything set?" she quietly asked the older man standing beside her.

A grin broke out upon Marco's face as he answered. "Everything is ready, we just need your key."

Regina fished her keys out of her handbag, peeling off her gate key and handing it to Marco.

"Thank you," she said as she placed her hand upon the older man's shoulder. Looking towards the pair behind the older man she raised her voice slightly so they could hear. "Thank you both as well, it means so much to me."

Marco nodded and smiled, before turning and ushering Archie and Kathryn back to his waiting truck. Regina watched as the three drove back in the direction of her house. She hoped it would all work out.

With a soft exhale and a silent prayer to the gods above, she took a seat next to Ashley and began chatting to the women surrounding her, making sure to keep an eye on Henry at all times.

Her heart had clenched each time he came running over to her to give her a hug for no other reason than to say 'thank you' or to tell her about how a clown had found a quarter behind his ear. She listened in rapt attention to each of his stories before he would run off again to play in the jumping castle or on the swings. Every so often her mind would cloud at the thought that the only thing missing was Emma; but she would mentally shake herself from that line of thinking, would not let it bring her down again today.

As the sun began its descent across the afternoon sky, the party had begun to wind down. Parents with small children had already left so their kids could have their afternoon naps; the cake had already been brought out and wishes had been made. Henry's eyes had lit up as he spotted the chocolate cake with green icing shaped as the Incredible Hulk and Regina had been sure to capture the whole thing on camera.

With a quick call to Marco she had received her confirmation and she was finally able to breathe easy once again. She called Henry over to her, telling him it was almost time to go home so he should say his goodbyes. He had nodded as he'd yawned, the excitement of the day starting to wear on him. She hoped he could stay awake just a little bit longer.

After saying goodbye to the remaining people in the park, she waited until Henry was buckled in before setting off for home. The day had, so far, been a resounding success and she was hopeful that the last touches would be as exciting for Henry as she hoped. It took them only minutes to get back to their house, Henry not noticing Marco's truck parked out front.

As the car doors were shut and locked, Regina cocked her head to the side.

"Do you hear that, Henry?"

Henry looked up, puzzled, but turned his head in an attempt to hear. To his surprise he faintly heard a woman's voice upon the breeze.

"Save me, Prince Henry, save me!" the voice called.

"Mommy! Someone needs us!"

"Wait!" Regina said, opening the trunk of the car, "you will need these." She handed him a small, plastic sword and crown she had left in there days prior.

Henry grabbed the sword and crown, delight playing across his features as he ran for the side gate and pushed through it.

Regina rushed to follow him, rounding the corner to their backyard only moments after Henry.

There, greeting her eyes was the spectacularly built wooden castle Marco had spent the last three months designing and crafting. It boasted four separate towers and one, at present, housed Kathryn dressed as a princess in need of rescuing. The three had done a miraculous job of bringing all the pieces here and fixing them together in her backyard. She knew she would be indebted to this trio.

"Help me, Prince Henry!" Kathryn called out again.

Henry hesitated briefly, turning back to his mom as a look of sheer joy swept across his face.

Moments later, Archie, dressed as a dragon came roaring out from behind the apple tree, blowing confetti as if it were fire.

"Quickly, my prince, you must save the princess!" Regina said, smiling, as she nudged Henry forward.

Henry dashed forward in a daring display of bravery and vanquished the terrifying dragon, Regina cheering him on - and taking photos - all the way. As he ascended the stairs to the tower with the princess, Regina noticed Marco in her periphery.

"I can't thank you enough for this, Marco," she'd said.

"It has been my pleasure," came his accented reply. "I never had a child, but if I had, I would have hoped he would have been like Henry."

Regina dutifully ignored the tears she saw building in the older man's eyes, opting instead to give his shoulder a squeeze. She turned when she heard Kathryn exclaiming her gratitude at being saved by such a brave prince.

She barely noticed as the following hours passed as both herself and Kathryn took turns at being rescued while Archie and Marco swapped at playing the dragon. In fact, it wasn't until the sun had dropped well below the horizon and home made pizza had been devoured that the trio finally said their goodbyes to herself and Henry.

Henry had been solidly yawning for half an hour before Regina had finally been able to coax him in to going to bed. Sitting down on the bed next to him, she leaned up against the wall, brushing the hair from his face as he fought to keep his eyes open.

"I don't want my birthday to end," Henry had mumbled.

"You'll have another one next year," Regina had answered, smiling down at her son.

"Can't I just have one more present, please?" he'd begged her.

She'd been about to say that there were no presents left when she recalled the one wrapped gift in her suitcase. She hadn't had time to check what it was, to make sure it was appropriate, but a part of her felt relaxed at the thought. Emma had bought this present, and unbeknownst to her, it was only fair that it went to their son.

Regina found herself agreeing to Henry's request of one more present and slipped from his room, retrieving the gift from her still as yet unpacked suitcase. She knew giving it to him was the right thing to do.

Henry's eyes widened as he pulled the paper off, an Incredible Hulk action figure hiding inside. Regina found herself slightly taken aback at the gift, wondering if fate was playing a hand in her destiny once more. This had been one of the few action figures she hadn't been able to find.

"Thanks, Mom!" Henry had exclaimed, wrapping his arms around Regina's neck in a tight, quick hug.

She'd been about to say the gift wasn't from her but found herself unable to form the words; how was she to explain from whom this gift had actually come? Smiling, she gently patted Henry's back before he lowered himself back on to the bed, pulling the covers up to his chin and hugging the action figure to him closely.

She sat quietly on the edge of the bed as Henry very quickly succumbed to the lure of sleep, his hands never letting the Incredible Hulk out of their grasp. She looked down at his small body and thought of the beautiful woman who had given birth to him, the woman who should be here celebrating with them. She sighed softly as she walked out of the room, switching the light off as she went.

With a heavy heart she made her way back to her own room, letting herself slip between the sheets, hoping sleep would claim her quickly. Closing her eyes she felt the familiar pull of sleep as it beckoned to her, wanting to feel it sweep her away in its currents. Somewhere in the corner of her mind the impossible spark fired again and without conscious thought, Regina held on to its thread.

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**A/N: Thanks to all who are sticking with this story and reviewing - your opinions mean a lot and I appreciate the time each and every one of you takes to leave me a message. I hope you continue to enjoy this as much as I'm enjoying writing it. :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - who tolerates my many errors and countless questions.**

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Emma pulled up at the five-storey apartment complex, parking her car in the visitor area by the side of the building. The drive had taken her longer than she had anticipated and already early evening was creeping in upon her. Opening the drivers side door somewhat hesitantly, she found herself questioning once more why she had decided to come to Austin. It would be easy just to shut the door, start the engine and keep driving; gods knew Dean wouldn't care either way whether she arrived or not. Idly she wondered if she'd even get a phone call asking where she was if she never showed up. _Probably not_, she conceded. With a sigh of resignation she stepped out of her car, locking the door behind her before heading in to the small foyer of the apartment building.

The groan that escaped her lips as she saw the "Out Of Order" sign hanging across the elevator was loud enough to cause a couple of elderly ladies, hovering by the stairs, to glance up in her direction - a look of annoyance on their faces. Emma couldn't even be sure why the sign caused her such irritation; maybe it was the fates trying to tell her something, or maybe it was the way the last 'R' in 'Order' had been placed below the word 'Orde' - as if some person couldn't judge the spacing needed to write five letters in a row. It was a trivial mistake, beneath her worry, but the more she thought about that left out letter 'R' the more irritated she became. She kicked at the dirty, red carpet beneath her feet, carpet that was in desperate need of replacing, and hitched her bag higher on her shoulder as she headed for the stairwell.

She climbed the stairs one at a time, willing herself to find a good excuse not to continue up, however by the time she reached the fourth floor she was still without a reason. With another deep sigh, she headed towards Dean's apartment.

His door, recently painted a bright, shiny red, stood out in stark contrast to the threadbare carpet runner that graced the hallway and the flickering of the fluorescent light overhead. It was a little disconcerting that this one door was so welcoming in an entire building full of neglect. She chewed on her bottom lip before raising her right hand, knocking lightly against the door.

A few moments passed and she started to shift her weight between her feet, moving slowly from the ball of her left foot to the heel of her right; the ball of her right to the heel of her left - a pattern that kept her mind occupied briefly. Eventually the sound of a chain being pulled from its latch and a deadbolt turning could be heard. What surprised Emma next was the head of a platinum blonde with a bad spray tan and nothing more than a white, terry cloth robe opening the door.

"Who are you?" asked the platinum blonde with a high pitched, scratchy accent.

Already Emma hated her.

"Emma. I'm looking for Dean." She craned her neck in an attempt to look past this woman who was effectively blocking the doorway.

The platinum blonde grunted and took half a step back. As Emma made a move to follow her in to the apartment, the door was slammed in her face.

_Well_, Emma thought, _that was unexpected_.

The sounds of arguing could be heard from the other side of the door and Emma reflexively took a few steps back, almost touching the door on the opposite side of the hallway. Again she fidgeted with the hem of her jacket and fought against the urge to turn around, walk down the stairs and out the door the way she had just come in. Dean owed her no favours, what right did she have to intrude? She exhaled softly as she ran her fingers through her hair, rubbing at the base of her neck; the beginnings of a headache were starting to form.

Moments passed and the arguing didn't seem to be waning - she threw her head back, stretching out her neck, as she focused on the flickering light above her. _What right indeed, Em?_ She questioned herself. To her surprise, the door before her was pulled open sharply and an irate platinum blonde stormed out towards the stairs, her unbuttoned white men's shirt flailing behind her in the breeze she created as she moved.

A second later Dean appeared in the doorway, giving Emma a cursory glance before calling out to the other woman.

"Candy, come back. It's not what you think."

Whatever Candy's reply had been sounded in no way favourable to Dean, the tone very clear even if the words were foreign. She watched as Dean leaned heavily against the doorframe, watching as Candy disappeared from sight down the stairs. Moments passed before he finally turned his eyes back to Emma.

"Hey," he said, moving away from the door and allowing Emma to enter.

"Hey," she replied as she stepped inside, glancing around the small apartment. She was surprised that it was at least halfway clean.

"Make yourself at home," Dean said, indicating towards the couch before heading in to the kitchen. "Can I get you a coffee?"

"Sure, that'd be great." Emma moved a football jersey from the back of the couch before sitting down, dropping her bag at her feet. The sound of water boiling could be heard coming from the kitchen, the occasional clang of a spoon against the inside of a cup highlighting the silence between them. Idly she rubbed her hands over her knees, the denim rough under her palms. Biting down on the inside of her cheek she took another look around the room before her eyes finally rested on the window overlooking a park.

"So, I see you met Candy." The silence was broken as the sound of water from the kettle hitting the sides of a cup reached Emma's ears. What the hell kind of name was that anyway?

"Yeah, look I'm sorry about that."

"Don't worry about it. You weren't to know."

Emma heard a spoon stirring in one cup, then the other, before being thrown haphazardly in to the sink; she sighed again. _Buck up kid_, she heard in her mind, Joe's voice filtering over her own internal dialogue, _things can always get worse_. She stifled her own grin as she watched Dean bring in the two cups of coffee, setting one down on the small table beside her as he took a seat in the armchair to her left.

Emma sipped on her instant coffee, black and bitter, and she found herself suppressing a pang of regret over Mama.

"So, you wanna tell me what this is all about?"

She held the cup of coffee between her hands, the heat radiating in to her palms, causing her to focus on the pain. Even if she wanted to tell him, she didn't know where to start, didn't know _how_ to start. There was no easy way to say that a single 24 hour stretch could thoroughly unbalance a person, could spin everything on to its head so much so that day became night, white became black, indifference became emotion. The betrayal she felt at finding those documents was beyond measure; for no discernable reason the level of betrayal she felt was disproportionate to the amount of time she actually knew Regina. But by the gods, if she'd believed in love at first sight, at first kiss, at first touch - she would have bet the farm that Regina held her soul. An involuntary shiver ran down her spine.

"Not really."

She leaned against the back of the couch, willing her body to relax.

"I need something, Em. You call me in the middle of the night, you won't tell me what's going on and my girlfriend storms out when you show up on my doorstep the next day - I just need something, anything."

The coffee swirled in her cup as she blew gently against the scorching liquid before sipping at it, contemplating. Without raising her head, she replied.

"I misjudged someone."

"That's really no reason."

She glanced up, saw the expectant look on Dean's face and lowered her eyes once more, the hypnotic swirls of the coffee in her cup holding her attention.

"It was a fairly large error in judgement."

There was a pause as she heard the springs in the chair protest as Dean shifted.

"You loved her then." It wasn't a question.

She shrugged her shoulders deeply.

"Does it matter?"

"Maybe. Did she love you?"

Emma turned and stared out the window, the early evening rapidly starting to give way to dark; already the streetlights were flickering on. Did Regina love her? She'd wanted to vehemently deny it the second the question had passed Dean's lips, to say there was no way in hell that woman could feel anything - but she remembered the raw emotion of the brunette as they'd made love, the look of longing in her eyes as she had embraced Emma as she'd tumbled in to ecstasy. In the height of her own passion she could almost have sworn she saw a spark of energy in the older woman's eyes, a fine golden thread tethering the pair together as a fire burned within her mind. She'd written it off at the time as post-orgasmic bliss coupled with her over-active imagination; for if she were truthful with herself, the only other option was purely magic - and that was absurd. _So,_ she pondered,_ did Regina love her?_

"I don't know."

There was a pause as Emma swirled her coffee in her cup, the silence that had once again descended upon them broken with the deep voice of the man next to her.

"I think she did."

Emma snapped her eyes up to meet Dean's, a look of something akin to empathy passing across his features.

"How would you know?"

She watched as he shrugged a little before leaning forward, putting his cup back on to the table in front of him.

"You're here."

"And?"

"Well let's face it, Em, you don't come here for my stunning good looks or my company."

Another pause, another stagnant moment in time she'd never be able to reclaim. She swallowed the last of her coffee, placing the cup on the table beside her. There was a truth to his words she wasn't ready to face, not tonight, maybe not tomorrow. She stood up from the couch and moved over to the window, bracing herself against the windowsill with her hands as she stared out in to the night. A soft sigh came from behind her followed once again by more creaky protests from the chair, a clang of cups and movement. Lifting her eyes she adjusted her focus, using the window as a mirror. Dean was watching her, a slight drop to his shoulders, two coffee cups in his left hand. She let her head fall forward and waited for whatever new bit of insightful information he had next; she should have known better than to come here.

To her surprise, he diverted the conversation.

"Hungry?"

Her stomach growled in response and she shook her head in disbelief, a smile tugging at a corner of her mouth. She turned to face him.

"Yeah, Dean, food sounds good."

"Good. Local pizza place delivers and they have the best pizza in town." He started to make his way back in to the kitchen before pausing and turning to her once more. "Do you have other things? Or is that bag it?"

"Two boxes in my car," she replied, thinking back to all her worldly possessions. Truthfully, all she really cared for was in the bag with her, but it would be a hassle to replace the rest that was in the boxes.

"Go get them. There's a room at the end of the hall. No bed, but there's a mattress on the floor - just mind the mess." With that he turned back to the kitchen and put the cups in the sink. He was just starting to dial as Emma made her way out of the apartment, heading back to her car, back to gather up her entire life in two arms.

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Emma collapsed on to the mattress on the floor, using an old sweater as a pillow. The rest of the night had been blissfully devoid of the difficult questions she was in no mood to face; just some pizza, some beer and some terrible black and white horror movies. It had been relaxing, almost numbing, going back to this and she had allowed herself to drift in to the horrible dialogue and budget special effects that had cemented Ed Wood as one of the worst directors of all time.

But now, laying here on the lumpy mattress with only a thin blanket to cover her, she felt stifled. Her traitorous mind was replaying her time with Regina - whether as some cruel parody of what never was, or a cruel reminder of what she left behind, she was unsure. She burned to know the truth, ached to feel this woman against her once more, and hated herself for the weakness.

Reaching in to her bag at the side of the mattress she felt the familiar warmth of the woollen baby blanket she kept with her, her fingers holding to it like a lifeline. Eventually sleep began to claim her and she found herself in that blissful in-between place - it was here that she saw a thin golden thread in her mind's eye. As she finally tumbled off the precipice into slumber, she caught the thread with both her hands, held it tightly and let it wind itself around her.

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Regina awoke minutes before her alarm clock was due to sound and stretched languidly beneath the egyptian cotton sheets. It took her a few seconds to realize that at some point during the night Henry had crawled in to bed with her and was currently little more than a small lump on the other side under the covers. She allowed herself these moments to watch him as he slept, the peacefulness that graced his features, and swelled inwardly with the love and pride she felt for this small boy. He may not have her genes, but he was hers in every way that mattered.

Quietly she got out of bed, the movement barely causing a stir from Henry, and switched the alarm clock off before walking in to the bathroom. Turning the taps on, she adjusted the temperature before slipping out of her satin pyjamas; the air cool against her as she felt an involuntary shiver run through her body. When the hot jets of water hit her skin, she let out a quiet moan of appreciation, allowing the heat to revitalize her. It had been a tumultuous few days, and this week was going to require a fair amount of her attention if she were to track down Emma once more. The question of '_then what?_' floated around in her mind, however she quickly dismissed it - choosing instead to cross that bridge once she came to it.

Images of Emma flashed through her mind and a soft spark flared to life inside her. Idly her right hand traced the flow of the rivulets of water down her body, brushing softly over her nipple that hardened at her touch. She followed the trail of water over her ribs and across the toned planes of her stomach, feeling the skin beneath her fingers quiver slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed and she remembered Emma's hands following this same path, the light teasing fingers questing lower as soft, green eyes, dilated with arousal and desire, held her own.

A low moan escaped her lips and she quickly bit down against the back of her left hand, suppressing any further noise as her fingers slipped between slick folds. Involuntarily her hips moved to meet her fingers, a shiver running down her spine as the palm of her hand brushed against the sensitive bundle of nerves. She hadn't realized how aroused she had become at the thought of Emma Swan, but as two fingers quickly became three, pumping with rhythmic speed inside her, hips bucking back in time, she knew it wouldn't take her long to crest and fall.

And so it was, less than a minute later that Regina found herself leaning heavily against the tiled wall of the shower for support, panting against the back of her hand as her inner walls clutched at her fingers. Emma's face slowly faded from her mind's eye and she was forced to open her eyes once again, her body feeling a state of relaxation that her mind just could not reach. Slowly she extricated her fingers as a tiny aftershock shuddered through her body; it wasn't too long after that she finished with her shower and turned the taps off.

As she exited the bathroom, a robe pulled tightly around her and a towel around her hair, she was happy to see Henry still fast asleep in the bed. She watched the small rise and fall of his chest briefly before her eyes caught sight of the time on the clock at her bedside. Silently she cursed to herself; this was not a good way to start the week.

"Come on, my prince, time to get up," she said, shaking Henry softly.

She was met with a sleepy body rolling over towards the edge of the bed, left hand still holding the Incredible Hulk toy she had given him the previous night. Her heart clenched a little at the sight, reminded once again that Emma should be here.

"Come on, Henry, up you get," her voice a little louder this time, another gentle shake to wake him from his slumber as she smiled down on the tired boy.

With sleep still threatening to pull him under, she watched as Henry struggled to get out of bed, one hand clutching the toy whilst the other wiped sleepily over his face and through his hair. She leaned down kissing the small boy on his head, "there's my good prince."

"Can't I stay with you today, Mommy?" he pleaded.

"Not today, sweetie, I've got a lot of work to do." Truth be told, Regina would have loved to have taken the day off, spent a day with her son - but a council meeting had been re-scheduled for this morning and she couldn't possibly re-schedule it for a second time. Soon enough Henry would be in school and she would not be able to pull him out for a day just because she wanted some quality mother and son time. She sighed to herself, wondering if she could swing working from home at all this week.

Regina watched as Henry stumbled out of her room and headed towards his own, knowing he would start to get ready for day care before he'd once again ask to spend the day with her. It was their routine every Monday before he once again settled in to his time with other children.

She finished getting herself ready - a navy blue pencil skirt coupled with a navy blue jacket and grey silk blouse - and admired her reflection in the mirror. _Not bad_ she thought to herself with the smallest hint of pride as she smoothed out non-existent wrinkles from her clothing. The years had been good to her and she smiled approvingly at the reflection.

"Mommy!" she heard, floating up from downstairs and she sighed softly, grabbing her high heels as she left the room, closing the door behind her.

She walked in to the kitchen expecting to find a mess, something else that could add to the time she had already wasted this morning; instead she found Henry sitting at the table eating a bowl of cheerios, the milk all thankfully contained within the bowl itself.

"Good boy, my prince," she said as she walked up to him, lightly ruffling his hair.

"Mommy, can I come with you today?" he turned his eyes towards her, trying to affect a puppy dog look in the hopes she would change her mind.

"No, Henry, not today," she said as she began to put away the milk and cereal. "Have you done your teeth?"

"Mmhmm," came a muffled sound around a mouthful of chewed up cereal and milk.

Regina sighed. "What have I told you about talking with your mouth full, Henry?" She closed the refrigerator and watched as Henry lifted the bowl and drank the last of the milk from it. She shook her head, but remained otherwise quiet as the young boy took his bowl and spoon, placing them both in the dishwasher.

"Can I take the Incredible Hulk with me today?" he pleaded as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

"You might lose it. You don't want that now, do you?"

His face had scrunched up as he considered the possibility he might actually lose it. "You're right," he said solemnly, "you should take it." And with that he thrust the figurine in to Regina's hand before she had time to consider what it was that she was taking.

She lifted her eyebrow and shook her head as she eyed the plastic action figure in her hand. "Let's go," she said as she grabbed his small backpack and guided him out of the house, locking the front door behind them.

It was going to be a long day - and she hoped her secretary had stopped for coffee before coming in this morning.

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Emma's eyes shot open as she fought to stifle the moan escaping her lips, finding her hand had, of its own accord, worked its way in to her pyjama pants whilst she was sleeping.

She moaned again before turning her head, biting in to the sleeve of the sweater she'd used as a pillow the night before. Her body arched to meet her fingers working furiously over her clit, her toes curling as the first wave began to crash over her. _Gods_ she ground out between clenched teeth as a vision of Regina floated through her mind. Closing her eyes tightly she rode out the last of her orgasm before finally removing her hand from her pants, willing her breathing to normalize. _That sure is one way to wake up, Em_ she commented to herself. Biting at her lower lip she struggled to remember if she'd been dreaming something particularly arousing that morning, but if she had been it was already disappearing into the mist of her subconscious.

The darkness outside the window was only just beginning to give way to the first rays of sunlight and Emma shivered, it was still too early to get up. Rolling over she allowed the relaxation her body felt to seep in to her mind, pulling her under once more.

The sounds of cupboards opening and a kettle whistling brought her back to wakefulness some time later. The reality of her situation, lying on a mattress on the floor of Dean's apartment, caused her to wonder once again if she'd made the wrong decision - one more amongst many. She groaned as she sat up thinking it best she make an appearance this morning.

Ten minutes later she was out in the kitchen with Dean, sipping on bitter, instant coffee and eyeing off a box of cheerios she spotted at the end of the counter.

"Did you sleep well?"

Emma shrugged. "Not bad."

"Any plans for the day?"

If she were completely honest with herself, she hadn't got that far in her train of thought, hadn't planned anything beyond just arriving at Dean's - as if that somehow would solve all the problems.

"None yet."

She watched as Dean nodded, moving over to his jacket hanging over the back of a chair and fishing in to the pocket for his wallet. Her eyebrows pulled together as she saw him pull out a business card.

"Not sure how long you intend to stay, but there's a job going here if you're interested. Tell them I sent you."

She took the card from his outstretched hand, reading the business name across the top. **Abandoned Art - Tattoo and Piercing**. Right.

"I'm not all that artistic, Dean," she began, finding herself cut off by a short burst of laughter from the man nearby.

"They need someone on front desk. Just taking calls, booking appointments. Nothing too extreme."

Emma nodded as she swallowed the last of the instant coffee, cringing slightly at the lukewarm, bitter taste. _What harm can it do? Stay or go, I still need cash for right now._ Her own thoughts turned to the few hundred dollars she had in her wallet and, likely less, in her bank account. She shifted uncomfortably on the seat.

"Thanks. I'll check it out today."

Dean nodded and reached up to the top of the cupboard, pulling out a spare key from a hiding place. Handing it to her, Emma pocketed it straight away.

"Ok, I'm out for the day. If you need anything, you have my number." He threw his bowl in to the sink and grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair, swinging it over his shoulder.

"Thanks," Emma said, her voice holding sincerity, "really. Thanks."

Dean shrugged uncomfortably, grunting out a few non-committal sounds before leaving the apartment.

As soon as the door had closed behind him Emma jumped up off the seat and poured herself a bowl of cheerios, allowing herself her childish indulgence. It was going to be a long day, but at least she had something that resembled a plan.

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Regina pinched the bridge of her nose as she pulled another file from the stack on her desk. The council meeting had taken up all of her morning, the only highlight being that her secretary had, in fact, brought a cup of coffee in from Granny's for her. She suspected, after the first few sips, that after having Mama's coffee she had been spoiled for life.

Flipping open the folder she sighed; budget requests for the fire station - the same budget requests she received every year. With a flick of her pen, she signed off on them, putting the folder in the 'out' tray as she reached over for another one. A new safety initiative against street crime. A snort of laughter spilled out; there was no street crime in Storybrooke. None the less, the citizens would want to see her doing something and so, once more, with a flick of a pen it was agreed - there would be a new safety initiative.

Leaning back in her chair, Regina rubbed at her temples. She was loathe to admit that maybe, in a small recess of her mind, she was bored. Bored of this town, of these people, of their small whims and flights of fancy; bored of crossing the t's and dotting the i's. She knew, deep down, that she could never admit to having grown weary of this existence - for to do so would mean the curse had been a mistake, and that was something to which she would never admit. In her idle moments, however, she wondered how long she could keep up this way of life; it had already nearly been a quarter of a century and still she ruled over these people - these passive, forgiving people. She sighed and leaned forward once again, reaching for the next item in her tray.

To her surprise it wasn't the annual fundraiser for the Halloween Masquerade Ball as she had been expecting, instead it was a letter reminding her of the Parent / Teacher night this coming Thursday. She groaned - finally something out of the ordinary and it was a trip to elementary school. _Still_, she reasoned, _Henry might enjoy it_. Opening the top drawer to her desk she slid the letter in, noticing Henry's Incredible Hulk figurine laying inside. She had been unable to leave it locked in her car for some unfathomable reason, instead choosing to put it inside her desk drawer. A small sigh escaped her lips as she smiled sadly at the toy before closing the drawer once again.

The loud ringing of her phone brought her back from her reverie. She tamped down the spark of hope that perhaps it was Emma, finding herself irritated when she spotted the caller ID.

"I trust you have news for me, Sidney," she said in a clipped tone.

"Ah well, yes, Madam Mayor, I do believe I have some news for you of which you may, as yet, be unaware."

Regina blinked her eyes slowly as she took a deep breath, trying to calm herself; he was stammering. In hindsight, she should have taken the lovesick puppy dog out of him - but at times, it did prove useful to be able to pull just the right strings to get things done with the minimum amount of fuss.

"And what have you learned?"

"Well, ah, Madam Mayor, it appears Emma left Tallahassee and travelled west."

The Mayor blinked again, her face setting itself in to a hard line as she clenched her jaw tightly; allowed the silence to linger, to become awkward.

"Ah, Madam Mayor?"

"Sidney, are you telling me that all you have learned is that Emma went west?"

"Well, er, so far that is all I have been able to uncover, but I assure..."

"Sidney! All that there is from Tallahassee is west! If you have no useful information for me, if you have no _way_ of gathering the information I need, then you cease to become useful yourself. Am I making myself clear?"

"Yes! Yes of course, Madam Mayor! I'll, ah, get on it immediately and find out more for you."

Without waiting to hear any more of his snivelling, Regina hung up on him. The new cell phones that hung up with a click of a button were far less satisfying than slamming down the older style ones, but the effect on the other end would, most assuredly, be the same. A groan escaped her lips as she wondered if this day could get any worse.

As if by some divine miracle, the gods decided to answer her question as her secretary walked through her open door, eyes red-rimmed and a tissue in her hand.

_Fantastic_, Regina thought, taking a deep breath and sitting up straight.

"Rachael?" she queried the middle-aged secretary before her.

"Oh Madam Mayor, it's.. it's just so unfair!"

Regina rolled the thought around in her head, trying to pinpoint where they were in the year, what was supposed to be happening. Shaking her head, she realized she had no idea what this woman was on about.

"What's so unfair, Rachael?"

"Life! Oh it's so cruel, so twisted sometimes. It's there one minute and gone the next."

This surprised Regina, she was quite certain no one died in Storybrooke, unless.. oh, it was that time again.

"What's happened?"

"It's Pongo! He's been hit by a car and the vet," Rachael stopped talking long enough to blow her nose and dry her eyes, "the vet said there's nothing that can be done! Archie's beside himself."

Regina stretched her neck, rubbing at the base of it, the tightness creeping across her shoulders. So, it was Pongo's turn to die again. It had seemed a particularly cruel punishment for Jiminy when she had thought of it, allowing him to find something to love and then to lose it senselessly. What she hadn't bargained on was her secretary developing a crush for the psychiatrist over the years and occasionally walking in and crying all over the place. The first few years of her reign as Mayor had been delightfully wicked, she was feared, she was revered - but time and Henry's adoption had softened her somewhat. If she were truly honest with herself, it was exhausting playing the part year in, year out, to people who would never remember. One year of crystal clarity in their memories is all anyone really had and then it began to fade. After that it was just a few years of fuzzy memories, a few years to remember that _this _is how it had always been - regardless of what _this_ was at the time. She exhaled softly, taking in the appearance of the woman before her.

"Would you like to take the rest of the afternoon off? Go and see how Mr Hopper is doing?"

"Oh thank you, Madam Mayor, thank you!"

Regina watched as Rachael scurried out of her office. Once the older woman was gone, she let out of a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. She was unconcerned about the demise of Archie's dog - in a few more weeks he would find a stray pup and name it Pongo after his last dog because it reminded him of it so much. The whole cycle would start again; when the dog would inevitably reach an untimely demise, Archie would have forgotten that he ever had a dog before Pongo. By Regina's count, Archie would have to be up to dog number six at least, if not seven.

She glanced at the clock noticing it was fast approaching 3pm. Perhaps she could take the rest of the afternoon off, pick Henry up early from day care and take him to get an ice-cream and maybe for a short stop at the park.

With that decided she packed up the last of her files, intent on finishing them from home once Henry was asleep. Opening the drawer she took out the small, plastic action figure and thought of Emma, another sad smile gracing her features. If only Emma knew how much their son loved the toy. She felt the tug of the spark in the back of her mind followed soon after by a longing in the pit of her stomach and an ache in her heart.

Closing the drawer she strode out of the office, locking the doors behind her, intent on enjoying the rest of the day with Henry.

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o

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**A/N: My thanks go out to those who take the time to read and leave a review. I know schedules are busy for people, so please know that I read and appreciate all the comments that are left with either this story, or any of my other ones. I do try to respond when I can, but for those who are posting anonymously, thank you, thank you, thank you :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - who tolerates my many errors and countless questions.**

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o

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Emma leaned back against the windscreen, adjusting herself slightly on the hood of her car. The sun's rays were slowly starting to fade and the streetlights had already flickered on not too much earlier. Reaching in to the paper bag at her side, she pulled out a hamburger and some fries, a lemonade already sitting in a take out holder beside her. Casually she gazed out from the parking lot and down a slight embankment to watch the road as cars sped past, the occasional horn of a truck blaring out its existence. Some people watched the ocean, some people gazed at the trees and the wildlife contained therein, for her it was the peace of mind that came from watching the traffic. Often times she would wonder what lives those people had, where they had come from, where they were going; sometimes she would wonder if she were related to any. She had sought this solitude for as long as she could remember - whether by watching the street below her from her bedroom window, or the cars as they drove past as she was on a swing in a schoolyard playground. Still she watched with interest as all manner of vehicle drove past this small, roadside diner.

Taking a bite of her burger, she relished the flavour; it was always a good sign for her when she could find decent take out in a new city, and this place was proving to live up to the reputation of which Dean had spoken. A slight breeze had picked up as the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, chasing away the heat from the day, the sweat at the base of her neck starting to evaporate. It was a pleasant sensation as the cool air danced across her overheated skin and her body seemed to hum its appreciation. She lost herself in the sights and sounds as the traffic rushed past before her, slowly eating her dinner and relishing every bite. It wasn't often these days that she took the time to watch the cars and the experience brought back a flood of memories.

_"Dean, I saw them!"_

_"Saw who, Em?" Dean replied absently._

_"My parents! I saw them! They were driving a big, silver car with a sunroof and tinted windows," she'd said, nodding to herself in her own way, "I bet they're rich! They're gonna come and get me."_

_"Don't count on it, Em," Dean had answered without glancing up from his comics._

_Emma's lower lip had pouted out as she had felt the sting of tears in her eyes. There was no way Dean could know whether or not those were her parents. As her chin began to tremble with the sobs she was repressing, Dean looked up and caught her eye._

_"Aw Em, don't cry," he'd said, getting up off the couch and giving her a rough hug, "I'll always be here for you."_

_"Like a brother?"_

_"Sure Em, like a brother."_

_She didn't know much, couldn't put too much hope in things, but she knew she could count on Dean._

Emma sighed as she finished off the last of her fries and gulped down the remainder of her lemonade. Throwing all the rubbish in to the paper bag, she crumpled it in to the shape of a small ball and aimed towards the nearest trash bin. With practiced ease, she threw the rubbish towards the bin and was only mildly surprised when it actually landed inside. _3 points for me_, she thought idly as she lay fully back against the windscreen of her car, putting one arm behind her head as a pillow. The city lights played out on the horizon as the last rays of the sunlight vanished. There was too much ambient light around her for Emma to see all but the most prominent stars overhead; instead, she turned her attention back to the traffic that was beginning to thin on the road before her. With her mind now unoccupied from having to think about eating dinner, she once again found herself wanting to think of something, anything, to avoid the elephant in the room of her mind.

So Emma refused to look at it, refused to think about it; instead she let her mind wander back over the last few days she had spent in Austin - a safer topic as long as she did not dwell on the reasons for her arrival.

That first morning after Dean had left for work she had thumbed over the business card left with her for some time, contemplating whether or not this was the right course of action. If she were truthful with herself, Emma knew she needed the money and if she could land this job, it might prove less physically draining than being on her feet for endless hours waiting tables. It had been nearing midday when she arrived at the tattoo studio and upon walking in, she realized all her preconceptions about establishments such as these were unequivocally false. This was no shady parlour, dimly lit full of old biker men with more tattoos visible than skin - instead it was brightly lit, as sterile looking as a doctor's surgery and had just one guy sitting behind a glass topped counter. True, he had more holes in his head than the gods perhaps had originally intended for him, and at Emma's guess she would have had only a few more years on him. Taking a deep breath, she approached him.

"Hi," she said, getting the man's attention as her eyes glanced down at all the available piercing jewelry.

"Hi," said the man behind the counter, a pleasant smile on his face, "how can I help you?"

"I was hoping to speak to the manager. A friend of mine told me there might be a job going here," she trailed off as she rested her hands on the stainless steel edging of the glass case.

"Hold tight one minute," the man said before disappearing in to the back rooms, presumably to find the manager.

Emma took the opportunity to look a little more around the waiting area; a handful of chairs graced the space available, at least half a dozen albums of tattoo designs were spread across the two tables that were also there. As she was about to pick up the nearest one to glance through, she heard a small cough from behind. To her surprise, as she turned, she was greeted with a woman no more than five years her senior with shock of obviously dyed, bright red hair styled in to a pixie cut.

"Hi," Emma greeted, a smile appearing on her face. "I was told there might be a job opening available?"

"Well, that might be true. It's not an advertised position however," the woman across the counter said.

"Oh, um, Dean mentioned it. He said to come and ask. He gave me this," Emma held out the business card as if the woman behind the counter required some kind of proof.

To Emma's relief, at the mention of Dean's name the apprehension left the other woman's face and was replaced with a smile.

"How is Dean anyway? Still with that spray tanned blonde thing? I forget her name."

"Candy?"

The other woman nodded her agreement at hearing the name.

"I think so. At least, I haven't heard anything to say they're not together."

The red haired woman laughed.

"That is still the most ridiculous name I've heard that doesn't belong to a stripper," she paused briefly before adding, "is she a stripper?"

Emma shrugged. "Can't say I know."

The other woman had laughed again as she shook her head.

"Oh, where are my manners," she said almost as an afterthought, extending her hand towards Emma, "my name's Meg."

"Emma." She shook the proffered hand.

"And yes, there is an opening here. Have you done anything like this before?

Emma had replied by giving Meg a brief rundown of her employment history.

"Well, tell you what Emma, why don't you come in tomorrow and we'll see how you go. If it works well for both of us, just keep coming back and I'll pay you to do it."

"Fantastic," Emma had replied, "what time?"

"Be here at 8.30 and we'll go from there."

Emma left not long after, deciding she actually liked Meg's carefree attitude.

The next day had proved to be an interesting learning curve for Emma as she set about understanding this new business in which she was now involved. After Tuesday's work trial had finished, Meg had offered her a permanent position and she had spent the better part of Tuesday evening finishing up employment paperwork ready to start her new job on Wednesday. She and Dean had celebrated with take out Chinese food from a nearby restaurant, beer and b-grade horror movies starting with cult classic, The Fly. It was every bit as bad as she remembered from the first time she had seen it, but no matter how hard she tried to fall in to the easy relaxation she had previously felt with Dean on other visits, it was an impossible state for her to reach. Something had felt slightly out of place, a little disjointed.

Wednesday had proven to be a popular day for having tattoos inked, and she had to admit Meg was a fantastic artist as each customer invariably took the time to show off their latest piece of work to Emma before they left. In all honesty, this new job was far better than any she'd had before; gone were the long hours spent on her feet, the terrible pay and relying on tips and most of all, gone were the rude customers who thought she was their own private punching bag for them to vent their frustrations. All in all, this job was quite liberating.

So here she sat on the hood of her car as the darkness of a Thursday night began to settle in around her. The chatter coming from the families at the diner behind her was not discernable at this distance and so faded in to white noise in her mind. The traffic that had been so heavy only half an hour beforehand had thinned and only once had she been interrupted in her thoughts by a siren - an ambulance speeding off somewhere, someone's life hanging in the balance. The night began to cool and she found she could no longer lose herself in this solitude watching the cars, could no longer ignore the things she needed to ignore if she were to remain. Slipping off the hood of her car she climbed in to the driver's seat, turned the engine on and cranked up the music as she set about heading back to Dean's apartment.

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o

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"Can I take the Incredible Hulk in with us, Mommy?" Henry asked, a hopeful, expectant look in his eyes.

Regina sighed - every day thus far she had taken the action figure to work with her, kept in her desk drawer safe from being lost. She found she was almost as attached to the toy as Henry was, albeit for entirely different reasons. Now here Henry was, asking to take it in to school for a parent / teacher evening where other children undoubtedly would also be attending.

"You might lose it, my prince. We wouldn't want that, would we?"

"I promise I won't. I'll hold on to him tight and never let him go. Please?"

He'd drawn out the last word, begging her to allow it. She knew she was going to regret this.

"Alright, Henry, just make sure you hold on to it the whole time."

The smile that beamed across his face was reward enough. With another soft sigh she undid her seatbelt, noticing that Henry had already practically jumped out of the car and was eagerly waiting for her by the steps to the school. Not for the first time the thought that perhaps Henry and herself could move from this place, away from all her baggage and reminders of a past better off forgotten, flashed briefly across her mind. _Now is not the time to think like that, Regina_ she berated herself before locking the car and following Henry up the school building steps.

Only once in the halls did Regina have to stop and ask one of the volunteers which way to the first grade parent / teacher meeting. As she entered the classroom with Henry in tow, the initial thought that struck her was how all the furniture was so small. It had never really occurred to her that almost everything in the room would have to be of a size to accommodate a small child, but seeing it for the first time she wondered what it might have been like if she, too, had gone to school. Not to say she wasn't educated, she had been home schooled like many others of nobility, but she had always wondered what it would have been like to have had friends as a child. Her second thought had been where she was to sit; other parents had taken to sitting in the smaller furniture, but there was little chance Regina was going to do the same. In the end she decided to stand against the side nearest to the windows whilst Henry moved to the back of the room to play with some other children who had also been brought to the meeting. Thankfully, one of the other teachers supervised the small group playing at the back otherwise she would have taken that responsibility herself - not so much for the sake of the other children, but more so to keep an eye on Henry.

The meeting began as a small, older woman entered the classroom, reminding Regina of Granny. It covered all of the basic things that would be expected for parents with children attending school for the first time, and it may have been useful if she hadn't already read all the books she could find on the topic coupled with any information on the internet the books didn't cover. No one could ever say Regina Mills was unprepared for motherhood. Idly she looked at her watch and allowed her mind to wander as the woman at the front of the room droned on about the need for parents and teachers to work together to ensure children received the best learning experience possible.

Her mind clicked back to the present as the woman at the front of the classroom made a comment about a short tour of the facilities - of which Regina could only fathom being a cafeteria and a gymnasium - followed by some refreshments in order to get to know the teaching staff of Storybrooke Elementary School. Honestly, she had half a mind to take Henry and head home now, grab a late dinner for herself as she had skipped a meal earlier, opting for a double shot espresso instead. However, glancing in Henry's direction he was so obviously happy playing with the small group of children she felt she couldn't tear him away so soon. To her satisfaction she also noted the Incredible Hulk was featured prominently in a truck that Henry was busy pushing around the floor along with another child. With a small wave to her son as his eyes met hers, she followed the group of parents, only the slight tensing of her jaw any indication to how she truly felt about it.

It wasn't too much later that they had reconvened in the gymnasium to a minimally catered, finger food only, type of affair. Parents and staff were intermingling as children played at the far end. Immediately her eyes sought out Henry and she was happy when she spotted him playing a game of tag with a small group of children. Some of the parents and a couple of the teachers had taken the opportunity of talking with her about city problems and she made sure to give them all at least a short amount of her time. Even if they wouldn't remember this conversation a year from now, one could never be too certain how useful another person would be at any given time. It wasn't often that things surprised her anymore, but she had always been the type to cover all her bases. A yawn had been stifled as she noticed some of the other parents leaving and idly the thought of how much longer her and Henry needed to stay crossed her mind.

As she wandered around the gymnasium she again let her thoughts drift, imagining all the possible ways she would attempt to convince Emma to return with her, assuming she ever found her again. _No_, she told her herself with determination, _I will find her once more_. No scenario she played out in her mind had Emma returning with her; she couldn't find a reasonable way of saying - _"I hired an investigator to make sure there was no threat of you claiming a biological right over my son, who happens to also be your son. Therefore, I flew to Tallahassee to see for myself that you were as incompetent as the information I received led me to believe. I didn't plan on falling in love with you, but I am, so please come back and live with us as a happy family."_ Somehow, Regina just didn't believe that version of the truth would go down so well. Moreover, if she were honest with herself, that was exactly what had happened - in a very cut and dry fashion.

A small cough beside her snapped her attention back to reality as her imaginings crumbled to dust in her mind. As always, she turned to greet one of the townsfolk with a smile, however her smile faltered and slipped from her face as her eyes met those of the woman beside her. Eyes narrowing slightly, she raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips together. Subconsciously she pulled herself up to her full height as she eyed the woman in front of her.

"Hello, Madam Mayor," the timid woman began, "I saw you standing over here alone and thought I'd come and introduce myself." The dark haired woman held her hand out, "My name's Mary Margaret Blanchard."

To her credit, Regina noted it must have been difficult for this woman to pluck up the courage to come over and speak with her. Unlike every other member of Storybrooke, Regina had taken a personal interest in developing almost every aspect of Snow White's new identity here. Whilst she may have implemented a few random acts upon some of the other citizens - such as Pongo dying every few years - she had been particularly thorough with Snow White. So much so, that she had instilled a fear within her when even being near to Regina. She had broken her down, taken her long, silky hair, and turned her in to this passive, timid shell of a woman that was standing beside her. She had even contemplated making her a nun and leaving her with the fairies. However, forcing her to live as if she were a nun, never knowing the touch of another person, but without the faith of an all-knowing deity, seemed far crueller. Indeed, she had extended the torture to encompass her work environment, forcing her to look after children every day for eternity whilst never knowing the joy of having one of her own. Undeniably, she had taken quite a delight in forming Snow White's own hell. Even as her own burning desire for vengeance had cooled and she had allowed herself to mix with some of the other people of Storybrooke, her anger towards this woman would always burn white hot.

Therefore, she looked at the proffered hand and ignored it.

The silence grew and soon Mary Margaret had retracted her hand. Regina almost laughed at the look of trepidation that crossed the younger woman's face, the furtive, sidelong glances; she was like a deer caught in headlights.

"I, ah, I'm one of the teachers here at Storybrooke Elementary," Mary Margaret stammered.

"Yes. I know who you are, Miss Blanchard," Regina had answered in a clipped tone, adjusting her posture slightly in a perfect likeness to the grace with which she carried herself back in Fairytale Land. She may not have had the stunning outfits in this world, but the black, tailored pantsuit she was currently wearing gave her the right bearing nonetheless.

Again Regina waited, letting the awkwardness of the moment settle. In her periphery she noticed rubbish being thrown out and tables being packed. Absently she wondered how much time had elapsed whilst she was off in her own little fantasy world in her mind. There were, perhaps, only half a dozen parents left and the equivalent numbers of staff.

"Well I, ah, just wanted to say it's going to be a pleasure seeing young Henry around the halls this year and I look forward to teaching him."

Regina's body went cold as she heard those words spill from the other woman's mouth.

"You will not be teaching my son," she had said, her voice low and bordering on dangerous.

"Oh no, Madam Mayor, of course not. I teach fifth grade, he won't be in my classroom for some years to come." Mary Margaret had let out a nervous laugh as she eyed the nearest exit.

Regina took a step towards the woman, clearly invading her personal space as she lowered her voice even more, dropping it an octave.

"You misunderstand me, Miss Blanchard. You won't be teaching my son. Ever."

Watching the flash of fear across the younger woman's face had been immensely satisfying and, with that, Regina turned and strode across the gymnasium towards Henry, taking him by the hand and leading him out.

Once they were outside she breathed in the fresh, night air, a small smile playing against her lips. Opening the door for Henry to climb in she made to move around to the driver's side, only to be interrupted by Sidney emerging from the shadows.

"Madam Mayor," he said, glancing around as the last of the parents and teachers began to exit the school.

Her eyes narrowed once more upon seeing Sidney here; she had been very specific about them never meeting in public.

"This had better be good, Sidney," she said, her voice holding a hint of warning.

"I believe so, yes."

"You 'believe'?"

"Ah, it is good, yes, it is," he stuttered.

She tapped her foot impatiently, the interior lights of the school shutting off, leaving only the outside light on, illuminating the school name.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

"Oh, yes, right. Emma's phone has been used. I tracked it back to where the call had originated and was able to pinpoint a location."

Regina raised her eyebrow sceptically.

"_You_ tracked it back?"

"Well, err, that is to say, Phil tracked it back. He really is good at his job."

"Yes, I pay him to be that way. It's a shame not everyone can be quite as good at their jobs," she said, looking at Sidney pointedly.

Sidney blinked rapidly, fidgeting with his hat in his hands.

"Ah so, yes, Phil says it was used in Tallahassee. At a bar she used to frequent there..." he trailed off.

Regina tensed her jaw, feeling her blood throb in her temples. She was unsure why she kept this incompetent fool around. As she was about to let a barrage of insults fly at the man before her, she heard Henry cry out to her, panicked. Glaring once at Sidney to warn him to stay put, she rushed over to her son.

"Mommy!" he cried as Regina opened the door, bending down to see what the problem was.

"What is it, my prince?" she asked, her voice thick with worry.

"It's my Incredible Hulk! I left him in the classroom!"

Regina idly wondered if this night could possibly get any worse.

"We'll need to wait until tomorrow to get it, my prince. They're all closed up for the night."

She watched as a single tear slid down Henry's cheek as he bit his lower lip in a concentrated effort not to cry in front of her. Her heart broke just a little at the sight.

"Hold on, Henry; let me see what I can do."

Turning to Sidney she motioned for him to keep watch on her son as she looked around the parking lot to see if any teachers were still around.

To her dismay, the only teacher still in sight was Mary Margaret, who was slowly starting to walk home. _Fantastic_, she thought, _I did wonder how this night could get worse_. Setting her shoulders in determination, she headed after Mary Margaret, catching up to her just as she was about to exit the parking lot.

"Miss Blanchard," she said, gaining the younger woman's surprised attention. The brief flicker of fear that crossed her features once more barely registered with Regina. Truth be told, she wanted that action figure back as well.

"Um, Madam Mayor? Can I help you with something?"

"You are to unlock the school. My son left an item inside that I need returned to him immediately."

Regina watched as Mary Margaret glanced around nervously.

"I'm sorry Madam Mayor, I don't have the keys to get back in. Only the principal has those," she answered apologetically.

Regina felt her jaw clench involuntarily before she took a deep breath.

"Then I suggest you get him on the phone." The tone implied there was no room for disagreement.

As Mary Margaret pulled out her phone from her purse, Regina did the same, calling Kathryn to see if she could take Henry back to her house and watch him whilst she waited for the principal to arrive. As she finished with her call, Kathryn having agreed to come to the school straight away, she walked back towards the car, leaving Mary Margaret on the phone behind her.

"Kathryn's coming to pick you up, my prince, whilst I wait here for the principal to return so I can get your toy." She had briefly debated telling him this was exactly the reason she didn't want him bringing the toy inside in the first place, but his eyes were already growing heavy and she knew it would be lost on him.

"Thank you, Mommy," he murmured as he closed his eyes, resting his head back against the seat.

Moving over towards Sidney she eyed him once more.

"Honestly, Sidney," she began, her tone and posture every bit the Evil Queen from days of old. "Your worth to me is diminishing every time we speak. I already know Emma left her phone with the bartender in Tallahassee before she disappeared. Next time you have information for me, make it useful or don't bother coming to me again." Venom entwined with her words and Sidney had backed away as if he had been struck, before finally turning tail and scurrying back in to the darkness, back to wherever it was he had come from.

Not long after, Kathryn's car pulled up along side her own and she was able to bundle a very sleepy Henry in to the other car. Given that Mary Margaret chose now to hover outside the entrance of the school, she assumed that the principal was indeed on his way. Thanking Kathryn she waited until she saw the taillights of the other woman's car in the distance before turning back to the school entrance. Taking a deep breath, she approached the building.

She noticed, with not a small amount of amusement, the schoolteacher would not meet her eye as she walked those few metres to the entrance.

"How long?" she asked as she stopped at the bottom of the steps.

"I... I'm sorry?" came the stammered reply.

"How long until the principal arrives?"

"Oh 15, maybe 20 minutes."

Regina nodded and straightened out her pantsuit, brushing at some non-existent bit of dust. The pre-cooked meals in her freezer that she had made during the week suddenly seemed very appealing. Undoubtedly she would be in no mood to cook anything when she finally arrived home.

The silence stretched out between the pair as Mary Margaret eventually half sat, half leaned against the four-foot high limestone garden edging. Regina watched with a slight smirk as the schoolteacher fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, a small spear of happiness welling within her to see this woman so defeated. It was interesting, to Regina, to watch the play of emotions crossing the younger woman's face - not one of them being any semblance of confidence or strength. There was no Snow White left in the woman who was now before her. Which is why she was somewhat surprised when, for the second time that evening, Mary Margaret spoke to her.

"You don't like me very much, do you?"

She'd said it so quietly Regina might have been able to brush it off as her imagination if only Mary Margaret had not raised her eyes to meet her own as she'd spoken. Admittedly, she was caught slightly off guard at the question, but her old demeanour when dealing with Snow White slipped on so effortlessly it was but a small ripple that would have gone unnoticed by this apprehensive shell of a woman. She smiled widely at the dark haired woman before her.

"Oh no, dear, that's not true," she said, her words coming out laced thick with honey.

And there, Regina saw, was that flash of hope upon the younger woman's face, her spirit lifting just slightly off the cold, hard ground to where the Evil Queen had banished it. It was almost beautiful, almost poetic in its justice.

She took a step forward, once more invading the younger woman's space as she took hold of her chin, not allowing Mary Margaret to divert her eyes, a gleam of hatred dancing through her own.

"I don't like you at all."

She smiled in satisfaction as the world once again fell around this woman, affirmed all her self-doubt, all her fears. A thrum of righteous vengeance flowed through her as she saw Snow White still so crushed. Their eyes remained locked, although not for lack of Mary Margaret trying to move her head, until the distant sound of an engine brought them back to the present.

Regina stepped back, once more smoothing down her jacket as she flicked away imagined spots of dirt.

"Why don't you run home, dear, your presence is no longer required." It didn't matter that this woman would not remember in a year, for now it would be the only thought she had in her mind. She watched as Mary Margaret walked briskly away without a backward glance, her head hung low as her shoulders slumped forward.

It was not long after that Regina was finally able to retrieve the forgotten toy from the first grade classroom. As her hand closed around the small figure she was momentarily lost in the sensation of Emma and she was forced to take a deep, shuddering breath. With a short thank you to the principal, she made her way back to her car and headed to Kathryn's where she would be able to collect Henry and go home. All she wanted was to put her tired son to bed, have a late dinner and fall into bed herself.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma sank down on to the scratchy cotton sheets on the mattress that was currently her bed in Dean's apartment. The exhaustion of the day had finally caught up with her, as had the two beers she'd drunk after returning to find the apartment empty. She'd shrugged indifferently to herself at that discovery; she wasn't Dean's keeper, after all. Nothing on television had been able to hold her interest for too long, nor had any of the b-grade horror movies she'd found on DVD around the apartment.

Admitting defeat, she had taken a shower and was now laying somewhat uncomfortably beneath a cheap, cotton sheet. Subconsciously her hand sought out the woollen baby blanket she kept with her at all times, finding a small measure of comfort at feeling it against her fingertips. Letting out a weary sigh, Emma closed her eyes, searching for that thin, golden thread she had seen in her mind's eye every night this week - seeking out the warmth as it wrapped around her.

As she opened her eyes in her dream world, she noticed she was standing in a large park on what felt like a glorious spring day. The sky was a beautiful, clear blue with only the smallest hint of wispy clouds in the sky - picturesque, some would say. Ahead of her there was a pond in the centre of the park with a handful of reeds growing out, ducks paddling through as families picnicked by the banks. Occasionally the ducks would venture close to a family and be rewarded with bread crusts thrown in their direction. To her left was a large playground with children playing noisily on the equipment contained within; their happy laughter both music to her ears and a dagger to her heart.

As she watched the cheerful scenario playing out before her, she was completely taken off guard as small arms wrapped around her waist, a tiny head burying against her. Looking down she noticed a mop of sandy, blonde hair on this small boy as he hugged her tightly. The awkwardness she knew instinctively that she should be feeling was nowhere to be found; instead there seemed to be a feeling of rightness.

"Play with me, Mommy!" the small child said, lifting his eyes to meet her own.

A smile broke across her face as she ran her fingers through his curly, blonde hair.

"Sure, kid," she said, and found herself somewhat unsurprised to find a baseball glove on one hand, the ball in the other. The young boy had run off and was waiting with his own gloved hand for her to throw the ball.

A feeling of peace descended upon Emma as she threw the ball to this boy, knowing intuitively it was her son. The fact this was a dream was floating far in her subconscious, enough for her to know it, but not to override the feeling of belonging that was currently overwhelming her.

Together they spent the better part of the day playing in the park, spending time on the swings and eating ice-cream by the pond - laughing at the antics of the ducks as they bobbed around in the water. In her mind, this was almost perfection, it really was only missing one thing.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina sprawled out beneath her sheets, feeling the cool material against her skin as she rolled on to her side. Henry was sleeping peacefully in his own room and she was hoping sleep would soon come to claim her as well. It had been a tiring day, the evening capping off in a less than desirable way. Whilst seeing her handiwork up close and personal once more had been somewhat satisfying, she would have been just as happy not to see Snow White again as long as she lived. Not for the first time, the small desire to leave this town with Henry pricked at her mind.

Rolling again beneath the sheets she sighed in frustration, her mind working overtime. Glancing at the clock she mumbled a few curses softly beneath her breath; she was certainly going to feel it when she woke up if she couldn't fall asleep soon. Telling herself to relax, to calm her mind, did surprisingly little to exact either of those effects. She hated it when sleep did not come easily for her, it felt like a waste of time to be laying around and accomplishing nothing except a growing sense of frustration.

Once more she forced her eyes closed and decided on impulse to allow her mind to drift to Emma, to wonder where she might be, how she might find her and bring her home.

As the blonde woman floated through Regina's mind, the impossible spark inside let out soft flares, filling her with a sense of love and peace. It was this spark that began to relax her and let her drift towards sleep, towards the thin, gold thread that would be awaiting her inevitable descent in to slumber. A part of her wished she knew the meaning behind this spark, the reason it had once again come to her when it unequivocally should never have returned; the other part warned her not to dig too deeply, not to question this wonderful gift. She knew eventually she would have to dig, it was not in her nature to leave questions unanswered, but for tonight it would be one mystery that could remain unsolved. Her subconscious began to drag her under, finally allowing her to shift in to that glorious place between consciousness and sleep. It was here she saw that now familiar gold thread and she felt herself smile as she reached out towards it.

The light was almost blinding as she blinked against it, her eyes taking a short amount of time to adjust. Looking around, Regina noticed she was on a pathway; rollerbladers and cyclists occasionally moving past her. The sunlight was warm upon her face and a gentle breeze played against her skin, caressing it softly. Without conscious thought she closed her eyes, facing towards the sun in awe, basking in the warmth of the day. How long she stood there, she did not know, but when she once again opened her eyes it took her less time to adjust to the light.

Turning slightly she noticed a parking lot behind her, filled to capacity with cars. The thought that this must be a popular place crossed her mind briefly. Before her was a small, grassy knoll and without thinking further on it, she walked to the top of it, gazing out at what lay beyond.

In all honesty, Regina would have loved to have something this welcoming in Storybrooke and idly she wondered if perhaps she could designate some land to replicate this - assuming she remembered it when she woke up. The tacit knowledge this was a dream had floated through her mind the moment her eyes had opened to sunlight, but it was so serene here that there was no reason not to let the dream sequence play out. How her mind had dreamed up something so welcoming was not a question she wanted to dwell upon. Instead she let her eyes dance over the view before her as she slipped her high heels off and sat down on the soft, brilliantly green grass.

She allowed her eyes to see everything, never lingering overly long on any one thing, in an attempt to savour every piece of this wonderful place. Before her, families were happily enjoying a beautiful afternoon together, some children playing on the huge playground to her right whilst others were flying kites in the open area to the left. A large pond, almost big enough to be called a small lake, featured prominently in the centre of the park - an intricately carved wooden bridge extending over the middle of it. _Yes_, Regina thought, _this is what Storybrooke needs_.

Her eyes continued to soak up the sights as her ears devoured the sounds of laughter and happiness - the sounds that should fill every person's childhood. These were the memories that needed to be made. A warm smile spread across her face as she leaned back on her hands, enjoying her dream.

To her surprise, as her eyes gazed lazily over the people before her, the spark once more began firing in her mind; softly at first as she watched the parents push their kids on the swings, then more insistently as her eyes moved past them to the shoreline of the pond. Leaning forward she brushed off the grass from her palms and used her hands instead to help shield some of the more direct sunlight from her eyes. There were a few families feeding ducks and another couple of children kicking a soccer ball between each other. Still the spark continued to burn in her mind.

As she looked harder still her eyes flicked to the other side of the pond where a woman and a small child were sitting on a bench eating what appeared to be ice-cream. Something about this pair pulled Regina to her feet, forced her to walk towards the pond, called to her heart as the spark almost hummed. The closer she got to the pond, the more she began to notice a near-invisible tendril of gold extending from her, so pale she could only see it if she moved her head in just the right way.

Reaching the closest shoreline, her eyes never leaving the pair on the other side, she felt compelled to stop and watch.

Moments passed for Regina, and as clear, forest green eyes finally rose to meet her own from the blonde opposite, a single word tumbled from her lips, no louder than a sigh of reverence.

"Emma."

And with that one word, the dream world collapsed around her, leaving her sleeping in her bed until the first rays of light would finally rouse her in the morning.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma's eyes snapped open as she sat up on her mattress, her heart racing as adrenalin coursed through her body. _What the hell?_ Her mind reeled at the implications before the logic of the situation caught up. Had she not just been thinking the entire dreamscape would have been perfect if only Regina had been there? Of course her subconscious would conjure up an image of the dark-haired beauty.

Gradually her heart rate slowed as her breathing returned to normal. Laying back down on her makeshift pillow she closed her eyes once more as her mind pulled forth the image of Regina from her dream. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt that familiar tug in her chest, a spark in her mind telling her this is what true love feels like.

As sleep again came to claim her for a second time that night, a small thought pushed itself to the forefront of her mind. _What if Regina hadn't been a dream?_


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - who tolerates my many errors and countless questions.**

* * *

o

* * *

Regina cut delicately into her garden salad with grilled chicken as she watched Henry devour his spaghetti and meatballs, the odd strand of pasta missing his mouth and falling from his fork occasionally. She was quietly thankful she had insisted on him using a napkin in his lap for just such an occurrence. Her young boy was growing up and she remembered back to a time when she would feed him with a bottle as she rocked him gently to sleep.

Taking a bite of her own salad she listened as Henry animatedly told her how excited he was to be starting school tomorrow, listing all the activities he wanted to do and all the things he was going to learn. Every so often, his fork would clank back down on to the plate as his hands joined in the conversation, distracting him from eating his dinner. Politely she would point out that he should continue eating and he could tell her in between mouthfuls what he wanted to say. Each time he would pick the fork back up to scoff another few bites before he forgot to eat again and his excitement would bubble over.

She watched his demeanour as if trying to ingrain his mannerisms in to her memory, the thought that he would not be a boy forever driving her with equal parts fear and pride. One day, she knew, he would stop calling her Mommy, would stop seeking her out to confide all his secrets and with every milestone he pushed through in his development, the closer that day came. However, for now, he was her prince and she was his world - and that knowledge caused a swell of love and devotion inside that threatened to overwhelm her. Deliberately she took another bite of her dinner and struggled to keep up with Henry's seemingly non-stop chatter.

From time to time, she noticed that Henry would tilt his head and his lips would twitch into a smile - and she knew it was not a trait he had inherited from her. It had been the same quirk she had noticed with Emma when she had asked her to move to Maine, to give their budding relationship a chance to bloom. The impossible spark sent out a soft flare at the thought of Emma, as it did so often these days, and she felt a dull ache of longing in her heart. Looking down at her dinner Regina exhaled softly, pushing her plate away as she realized her appetite had been lost. It had been almost a fortnight since Sidney had told her that Emma had travelled west from Tallahassee, over a fortnight since her world had crumbled most recently.

As her gaze travelled up she felt herself click back into the present, Henry's chatter having continued unabated even though his plate was, thankfully, now empty. Standing up she began to clear the plates as Henry, always eager to help, brought his cup from the table and placed it in the dishwasher.

"Can I play on my castle, Mommy?" Regina heard from over her shoulder as she placed her leftover salad in the refrigerator.

The wooden castle had truly been his most treasured gift from his birthday. He spent every day out there, calling it _his castle_ as he allowed his imagination to run wild. The fairytale world meshing with the Marvel universe as the Incredible Hulk joined in many adventures with the prince. However, looking outside through the window over the sink, Regina noticed that night time well and truly had set in and she was loathe to have Henry running around on it in the dark.

"No, my prince, it's too late at night. Tomorrow after school you can play all you like." She hadn't needed to turn around to know there would be a small pout on his six year old face.

"Please, Mommy?" His words drew out, extending each one as he begged her.

She turned and faced him, correctly having guessed the pout, noticing it was now coupled with puppy dog eyes as he pleaded with her. A smile crept over her face and she wished she had a camera - this would have been a golden photo for his 21st birthday.

"How about you go upstairs and put your pyjamas on and we can sit down and watch a movie before bed?" Regina countered.

Henry seemed to contemplate the decision. Regina watched as he scrunched his face up in concentration.

"Can it be 'Cars'?" he asked.

Regina cringed internally. She hated that movie, but this was Henry's last night before school started. Relenting, she nodded.

"Only if you go upstairs and get ready now though. I'll finish up the dishes and we can get started." At those words, Henry was bounding up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him.

By the time she entered the living room, a cup of coffee in hand, Henry had already put the DVD in and curled up on the sofa. Regina noticed his Incredible Hulk pyjamas were starting to become a little too short in the legs for him and she made a mental note to buy him some more tomorrow after she dropped him off at school. Briefly, her mind spun at the prospect of her boy growing up, but at Henry's inquisitive gaze she set a smile on her lips and indicated for him to start the movie.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma relaxed against the couch, letting the old, neglected piece of furniture wrap its threadbare cushioning around her shoulders as she slumped in to it. Channel surfing was always a way for her to pass time, a way for her mind to forget as it was bombarded with different information at every click of the button. There were things, Emma knew, that she wasn't prepared to think about just now - hadn't been prepared for the last two weeks, and may never find herself in a position to do so. She flipped the channel again in frustration, allowing the new information to push through in to her mind.

The heat from the day had given way to a cool change in the night, and sitting on the couch Emma had slipped in to a pair of yoga pants and a long sleeved shirt to ward off the chill in the air. Taking another handful of popcorn, she shoved the salty, buttery confection in to her mouth, savouring the flavour as she went. It certainly wasn't the healthiest dinner she'd ever had, but it probably wasn't the worst, either. Another channel flip and she found she was watching reruns of I Dream of Jeannie. Maybe they were reruns of reruns. A small sigh of disappointment escaped her lips as she realized she was out of popcorn and now incredibly thirsty. With as much effort as she could muster, she rose from her comfortable position on the couch and headed to the kitchen, leaving the empty popcorn bowl in the sink to be dealt with tomorrow. Grabbing a soda from the refrigerator, she headed back to the couch, pulling her feet up underneath her as she curled up in a corner. As she was about to flip to another channel she heard a key turning in the deadbolt.

"Hey Dean," she said as she saw him enter the apartment.

"Hey Em, glad you're still awake."

She flicked her eyes to the clock on the wall, noticing it was nearing midnight. Idly she wondered where the time had gone; surely it had only just gone 9pm when she had last looked at the clock.

"What's up?" Her hand reflexively muted the volume on the television as Dean took his seat in the armchair beside the couch.

"Well, it's just you've been here a few weeks now," he began, looking down at his hands as he rubbed at his finger tips, "and I was wondering what you had planned?"

Emma should have seen this coming - she'd insinuated herself in to Dean's life, taken up his spare room and disrupted his relationship with Candy. Even in her mind she despised that name.

"Yeah, sorry, I'll start looking for a place tomorrow," she shrugged helplessly, "Monday and Tuesday are my rostered days off so I'll try and be out of your hair by then."

Dean let out an exasperated sigh.

"Jesus Em, that's not what I meant. Stop jumping to conclusions."

A frown of confusion crept across Emma's face.

"So, what then?"

"Candy and I are gonna move in together. I thought maybe you'd want to sublet the apartment here for yourself - otherwise I can try to find a roommate for you or another tenant if you plan to leave. I can't afford two rents, but the lease isn't up here for several more months."

Emma looked around the apartment. She had liked the area, if not the apartment building itself; added to which it was within walking distance to work. Ideally, it was in a perfect location - and it wasn't as if she hadn't spent the better part of the last two weeks virtually living here by herself anyway. After the first couple of days, Dean had taken to spending his evenings with Candy - Emma only hearing him unlocking the door to the apartment in the early hours of the morning, if at all. If she were truthful with herself, she liked Austin, liked her work and enjoyed the people with whom she worked. They were a good bunch of people and she could see herself sticking around for a little while yet.

"Sure, Dean, I'll stay." She gave him a lopsided grin as she spied the look of relief on his face. _Although_, she surmised, _most likely as it meant he had a tenant - not because he actually cared if she were in Austin or not_.

"Just, Em, let me know when you leave, ok? No surprises from the landlord, please?"

Emma didn't take his comment as offensive; he knew her track record with sticking to places, to people, as well as she did. The least she could do would be to give him a heads up when she finally turned her taillights to this city and moved on once more. Nodding her agreement she flicked her eyes back to the silent screening of I Dream of Jeannie as she noticed Dean stand up in her periphery.

"Oh hey Em, one more thing? Can I borrow your car tomorrow?"

"Why? What's wrong with yours?"

"Only good for scrap metal now, engine finally went on her."

Emma nodded her understanding as she watched Jeannie emerge from her bottle. As an afterthought, she glanced up at Dean.

"Hey, if you're looking to buy a car, I might be willing to sell," she said. The truth was, the car was too big for her and costing her more money in gas than a smaller, more efficient car would. Even here, with everything in walking distance, she'd barely driven it more than a handful of times in the past two weeks.

"I'll give it some thought," Dean mused as he headed out of the room. "Night, Em."

"Night, Dean," she replied, turning her attention back to the television.

It was another hour of reruns before Emma finally turned the lights off and headed for her room, a part of her thinking she should buy a real bed if she intended to stay here, another warring part telling her not to get too comfortable.

As she closed her eyes for sleep, she finally allowed herself to think of Regina, of all the things she should have said - allowed her mind to think back to that night and that glorious morning. Revelling in the warmth the soft spark was shooting, she slipped further in to sleep until she saw that familiar golden thread. Instead of letting it wind around her as she had every other night, she began to follow it down, clinging to it until sleep claimed her once again.

* * *

o

* * *

By the time the movie had finished, Henry was fast asleep, curled up in the corner of the couch. The rain that had been threatening to burst for most of the afternoon had already started beating a steady rhythm against the windows and every so often Regina would notice a flash of lightning in the distance, still too far away to hear any thunder. Clicking the movie off she headed over to Henry, his soft, even breathing telling her he was very much asleep. With minimal effort she lifted the small boy from the couch and carried him back to his room, tucking him in soundly to his bed. She smiled as she brushed some hair from his face before turning on the nightlight next to his bed, his last night before starting school. Her little boy truly was growing up, right before her eyes. Kissing him softly on his forehead she smiled once more at the look of serenity upon his sleeping face. With a glance back over her shoulder, she exited the room, intent on getting an early night herself.

It wasn't long after that Regina had finally turned all the lights off in the house and was finally reclining on her own bed, a book in her hands and a steaming cup of coffee on the table beside her. Ordinarily she wouldn't bring any food or drink in to the bedrooms, but nights such as these she had to admit it was pleasant to curl up under the duvet with a hot drink and a good book.

As she continued to read, the steady beating of the rain became louder, the flashes of lightning more insistent and the first rumblings of thunder could now be heard in the distance. For Regina, the sound of rain against her windows was one of the most soothing sounds in the world for her. Often times when she had been much younger, the sound of rain would drown out the constant yelling of her abusive mother to her passive father; later in life it would drown out the thoughts inside her head, fill her mind with only the heavy sound of rain pouring down from the heavens above.

As if to punctuate its point and demand her full attention, the power cut out before a particularly loud crack of thunder, leaving Regina alone in the dark, only the sound of rain for company.

With a weary sigh she slipped the bookmark out from the back of the book and placed it between the pages she was currently reading. Putting the book carefully on the table next to her she flicked the switch of the lamp to off so as not to be rudely awoken when the power eventually came back on. Slipping down further between the covers she exhaled deeply, relaxing into the feel of her body beneath the sheets. The rain continued to beat against the windows, flashes of lightning turning night in to day as Regina felt a familiar calmness wash over her. To the gentle lullaby of the rain, Regina fell asleep.

Opening her eyes, she once more had to allow a few moments for her eyes to adjust to the light. It was a familiar sight to her eyes when she was finally able to look around at her surroundings. She found herself on a park bench sitting beside a small lake with an intricately carved wooden bridge, a large playground was visible on the opposite side. However, unlike last time, there were no children playing, no families picnicking and there was a decidedly chill feel in the air around her. If it weren't winter already, it would be soon. Pulling her jacket a little tighter around her, she felt a shiver run down her spine. It almost felt like a ghost town, the sun unable to hold its own against the cold wind; her mind remembering the cheerfulness that had greeted her last time she was here.

From the corners of her mind, she realized that no matter how desolate this scene was before her, she was not alone. As the sounds of footsteps from behind reached her ears, she exhaled one word.

"Emma."

She didn't turn her head as the blonde woman climbed over the back of the park bench, sitting on the backrest as her feet planted themselves firmly on the seat itself. From her periphery she noticed black, buckled boots extending half way up perfectly toned calves - smooth skin extending from there as far as she could see without moving her head. As much as she wanted to drink in the sight of the woman beside her, she resolutely kept her focus on the lake, noticing for the first time how devoid of life it seemed to be.

The silence grew thick around the pair and Regina's outwardly calm facade held fast as her insides began to crumble. Minutes passed as she watched her breath mist before her, curling before disappearing into the atmosphere. Her neck began to ache as she realized how tensely she had been holding her muscles in her shoulders. With a deep sigh she forced herself to relax, one hand involuntarily rubbing at her neck.

In one swift motion she felt Emma shift along the backrest, swinging a leg around the back of Regina to plant on the other side of her as long, slender fingers began kneading at her knotted muscles. Unable to contain the soft moan of appreciation, her head fell forward as the sound passed her lips. Fingers worked to loosen the tension that had started to warn her of an imminent headache, feeling it recede as the knots began to dissolve. In the back of her mind, Regina dared to hope.

As the last of the knots finally let go she found herself surprised when massaging fingers turned into a soft caress along the length of her neck before a single finger traced a line down her jaw to her chin. She felt Emma's hot breath on her ear only a moment before she felt the warm swipe of her tongue, followed by the heat of her mouth enveloping her earlobe. The hand that had traced her jawline was now working it's way down her chest, slipping beneath her jacket and blouse to cup one lace-covered breast.

"Gods..." she murmured, finally tilting her head back as Emma released her lobe. Looking up before her, she saw those forest green eyes once again dilating with arousal before lips and tongue and teeth were crashing against her own and all coherent thought was long gone. Tongues arched together, duelling for dominance in each other's mouths as she revelled in the taste of the younger woman once more; the feeling of Emma's hand palming her breast, pinching at her already hardened nipple caused her moan to be swallowed by Emma's hungry mouth. It was only their need for air that pulled them apart and Regina had taken the opportunity to move to face her, kneeling up on the park bench before once again leaning in to steal another kiss, capturing Emma's lips with her own as fingers tangled through silky, blonde locks.

Electricity threatened to spark from the tips of Regina's fingers as she traced a line up perfectly smooth legs, stopping at the hem of a short, black skirt. A shiver ran through her body as steady, cool hands pulled her blouse out from her own pants. Her breath caught as one hand roughly pushed beneath her blouse and bra, cupping her breast, warm skin meeting cool as a thumb brushed against her hardened nipple. She slipped a finger under the hem of Emma's skirt, rubbing at the skin, and was quietly pleased when her wrist was tightly grabbed and pulled higher up under the black mini skirt, an impatient sound coming from the other woman. Squeezing at the soft skin of Emma's inner thigh, she made her way higher, tracing intricate patterns against the sensitive flesh. Wrapping her other arm around the blonde's waist, she held her tightly, feeling every quiver as her fingers worked their way higher, hearing every sharp intake of breath as she skimmed along smooth skin. When her questing fingers felt the damp material of Emma's panties, she couldn't suppress the shudder of desire that coursed through her body. A growl, desperate with need, emanated from Regina as Emma's head fell back, exposing the smooth expanse of skin to a hungry gaze.

She grazed her knuckles over the cotton, eliciting a delicious whimper, as she felt hips buck involuntarily forward to meet her fingers. Licking her way down porcelain white skin, she bit and sucked against a pulse point as she pushed the offending panties to the side, allowing her fingers to press against the wet heat it contained. Flicking Emma's clit, she was rewarded with a soft moan and soon lifted her head to once again reclaim those supple lips as she teased lightly at Emma's entrance.

Regina had wanted to draw it out, to prolong their time together, and she thought she might almost be able to hold back. Almost, if only Emma hadn't moved her mouth from Regina's lips and brought them to her ear, breathing hard against the shell as she growled out her need.

"Fuck me." And it was said so breathlessly Regina found herself helpless, unable to do anything but comply as she buried two fingers knuckle deep into the woman before her.

The chill of the air was all but forgotten as she felt Emma's hips rock forward, pushing against slender fingers - Regina's other arm holding her, stopping her from falling back after each thrust. Using her thumb, she circled the sensitive bundle of nerves, groaning as she heard each successive moan the action drew out. Regina built up a steady rhythm, thrusting in to wet heat as she felt her own desire build with each passing second. She felt as Emma's arms wrapped around her, as her lips travelled down her neck, biting and sucking at the skin and it was all Regina could do not to force one of those cool, talented hands in to her own pants. Right now, all she wanted was to feel Emma come undone around her fingers; with that thought she pulled her tighter with one arm as she began to push her fingers deeper. Another moan was felt against the base of her throat, the sound vibrating through Regina's body and she struggled to remain focused solely on Emma's pleasure.

It was the third finger she slid inside that proved to be the action that would be Emma's undoing. Inner walls clenched tightly around her slender fingers as her thumb swiped against Emma's clit, causing the blonde to throw her head back in hedonistic delight, crying out Regina's name as wave after wave crashed over her. In her mind, there was still no more beautiful a sight than Emma unravelling before her, no better feeling than this woman pulsing around her.

Only once the aftershocks had calmed down did Regina slip her fingers out, those same fingers making their way to her mouth as she savoured the taste. The look that passed across Emma's face as she watched Regina tasting her, lapping her essence from her fingers, was of pure, carnal desire and the brunette felt a shiver run down her spine, craving the younger woman's touch. Without any warning, she felt fingers roughly entwining in her hair, pulling her head to the blonde's as once more lips crashed together, Emma's tongue demanding entrance to her mouth. Hurried, desperate kisses filled with longing. It was with a moan of pleasure that Regina parted her lips, felt the tongue slip past her teeth and explore her mouth. She surrendered to the kiss as cool hands held her tight.

As they broke apart once more, Regina felt those hot lips against the skin of her neck as Emma trailed kisses lower. Threading her fingers through long, soft locks once more she sighed in contentment, a single word spilling from her lips before she thought better of it.

"Why?" she murmured softly as her hand caressed the blonde head currently at her throat.

"Does it matter?" Emma asked as she licked a lazy pattern across salty skin.

Reaching down slightly she lifted Emma's head up, looking in to those beautiful, clear, forest green eyes.

"To me it does." She felt the impossible spark once again; saw the thread that tethered them together.

"You're just a dream," Emma had replied, lowering her head and resuming her explorations of Regina's neck once more. "A beautiful, stunning, erotic dream." Almost in passing, Emma had added, "I hope I remember this when I wake up." It had been said so softly, but it pierced through to Regina's heart.

She glanced around the empty park and exhaled, a look of resignation on her face as the edges of the park began to bleed away. Before she could think any further on it, the park faded altogether and she found herself pulled back in to reality, waking to the sounds of a thunderstorm. With the next flash of lightning she noticed the silhouette of her son standing beside her bed.

"Henry?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"I'm scared, Mommy. Can I sleep with you?"

Without hesitation Regina moved to the middle of the bed, lifting the covers for her son to crawl in next to her. She noticed he still gripped the Incredible Hulk in his left hand as he nestled in against her.

"It's alright, my prince, go to sleep. Mommy's got you."

It was only minutes later when she heard the telltale rhythmic breathing that she realized Henry was asleep and she sighed, exhausted from her dream. Looking at the glowing hands on the clock beside her bed, she groaned softly, noticing it would only be a few more hours before she had to wake up, to start her day, and take her son to school for the first time. Kissing the back of Henry's head she closed her eyes and fell in to a dreamless sleep until her alarm sounded, waking her to a bright, clear blue sky.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma's eyes opened as the sun's rays spilled in through her open window. Sounds could be heard beyond her door, but she chose to ignore them for now; instead she stretched lazily over the sheets, the heat the day would bring not yet reaching her. Her body felt relaxed and sated, a calmness settling over her as she pushed her baby blanket back inside her bag. The image of Regina kneeling between her legs on a park bench crashed in to her mind and her breath hitched, a soft flare firing off somewhere inside her.

Another clang from beyond her door and Emma decided that perhaps it was time to get up and face the day. Without hurry she pulled on the nearest pair of jeans and a hooded jacket, zipping it up in front.

"Hey," she said to Dean as she walked in to the kitchen, noticing all the boxes lying around, some half filled, some still empty.

"Hey Em, sorry if I woke you," he answered, distracted.

"No worries." She sat down on the nearest bar stool, pulling one foot up on to the chair as well, her chin resting on her knee as her other leg dangled down.

"It's still alright if I borrow your car, yeah?" Another distracted question as Dean had thrown a pile of clothes in to a box and taped it shut.

"Mmhmm," she replied, tilting her head until she was looking out the window to the park across the street, noticing it was almost empty - a lone jogger running through. As the noise in the kitchen stopped, she shifted her attention back to Dean.

"Hey Em, last night - were you serious about your car?"

Emma blinked, having forgotten that part of the conversation. However, even now that she remembered it, there had been truth in her words last night - the car was more expensive than it was worth. Especially with her propensity to leave towns at regular intervals.

"Yeah Dean, if you want her, she's for sale."

She watched as Dean nodded, slowly packing more things in to the remaining boxes.

"Well, as long as it's a reasonable price, I'll buy her. I need a car and I know you look after the ones you have. Guess that stay with the mechanic when we were younger rubbed off on you." He gave a lopsided grin before returning to his packing.

"Guess so," she agreed half-heartedly. "Hey look, I'm gonna head down to the diner and get a bite to eat for breakfast. You want anything?"

"Nah, I'm good. Gonna get this first load over to Candy's soon."

Emma nodded as she grabbed her wallet, taking her car keys from her pocket and putting them down on the counter.

"I'll see you later then," she said as she left the apartment, closing the door quietly behind her.

For a moment she leaned heavily back against the door, the coolness of the wood seeping through her jacket as she exhaled in frustration. With a mental kick she moved away from the door and headed down to the diner on the corner of the street, forcing herself to think of anything but the woman who had invaded her dreams the night before.

* * *

o

* * *

"I'll be right here after school, my prince, I promise." Regina kept her feelings in check as she noticed the other parents near to her with tears running down their cheeks. Such an open display of emotion on what should be their child's most exciting day seemed selfish - half of the children themselves were crying simply because they saw their parents doing the same. She gave Henry another quick hug and a kiss to his forehead, smiling as she saw the tilt of his head and the twitch of a smile on his face.

"Love you, Mommy!" he said, before racing in to the classroom, leaving her standing outside with an Incredible Hulk action figure once more.

Taking one last look into the classroom to the excited bobbing of her son, she left the building and climbed in to her car. It was only once she was inside, the solitude wrapping around her, that she allowed a single tear to escape her eye. Her boy was growing up. She put the toy down on the seat next to her and found herself torn between emotion - the knowledge that her son was starting school today and the knowledge Emma should have been here to witness it. Another tear had the audacity to escape before she was finally able to leave the parking lot and head to work. Whom this second tear was for, even Regina couldn't be sure.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - her advice and corrections are always very much appreciated.**

* * *

o

* * *

Emma shoved her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans, kicking a solitary rock down the footpath as she walked home from work. The heat of summer finally felt as if it were being shed, but the small sheen of sweat on her neck and between her shoulder blades still pricked at her. She rolled out her shoulders and neck and exhaled sharply as she blew a strand of hair away from her face. Kicking the stone again as she continued walking, she checked the time on her watch once more. It felt odd to be walking home at this time, Meg having sent her home early; there were no more appointments for the day and Emma had cleaned every surface available, tidied everything that had needed tidying. She supposed Meg thought she was doing her a favour, but truthfully, Emma would have preferred the distraction today.

Passing a small car yard she took a cursory glance over the cars she could see in the lot, but none managed to keep her attention for more than a few moments. A small part of her regretted selling Dean her car - not for any practical reason, but she had become somewhat attached to it. Now it would just be a matter of time until another car caught her attention. Hopefully it would be sooner rather than later; as much as she had no current desire to leave this town, she felt trapped without the ability to do so.

She pulled at her tank top, trying to cool herself down a little as she looked around the street. There was a group of girls talking loudly and animatedly on the opposite side of the street and a steady stream of cars making their way home early on a Friday afternoon. However, on her side of the road, it was just her and the stone she was kicking idly as she walked. The shop fronts themselves did not look inviting, as if the owners were attempting to close up early, to try and get home and enjoy the coming weekend for as long as possible. A few more steps further along and she found herself in the shade of the overhanging roof at the start of the line of shops.

After only a few moments, the coolness of the shade began to seep in through her heated skin and she found herself walking aimlessly into the nearest convenience store. Glancing over the racks of cold drinks, she finally settled on a bottle of cold water; the marginal air conditioning of the shop feeling chill against her. Fishing the money out of her jeans to pay for it, she left, sipping on her water as she continued to walk past the storefronts, kicking her stone and paying no particular attention to anyone around her.

Her trance-like state was broken when she heard the familiar ring tone from her phone in her back pocket. With a sigh of resignation, she answered the call.

"Hey, Dean," she said, eyes searching for the stone she kicked.

"Hey, Em."

There was a pause as Emma kicked the toe of her shoe against the concrete beneath her feet before tilting her head back as far as she could to stretch out her neck. The muscles having tensed the moment the ringtone had started; if she weren't careful, it would be the start of a tension headache.

"I was just calling to..."

"Don't. Not today, ok?"

There had been a quick bark of laughter on the other end of the phone line.

"I don't think any other day would be more suited to it than today, Em."

"Well then, let's go with never."

She sighed, the stone was gone. For all she knew the last kick had sent it down a gutter. It shouldn't have mattered, but she'd been kicking it for five blocks and _no_, she told herself, _it doesn't matter_.

"C'mon Em, don't be like that. What do you say I come round tonight; pizza and beer and some really bad movies? Just like old times."

"I can't Dean, I'm going out tonight."

She trudged slowly back along the line of shops, hovering outside one as she spoke to him. An elderly woman with a walker exited from in front of her and she forced a smile as their eyes briefly met.

"Well I'm glad to hear you're getting out. I was beginning to worry for a while there."

"Yeah, you know me," she sighed, "party animal that I am."

The sarcastic comment had left her mouth before she'd had time to think better of it. Not that it mattered, she supposed - Dean's tone had not held any of the worry he proclaimed to have felt. How their relationship worked was as much a mystery to her now as it had been years ago; neither felt any particular attachment to the other. Worry and concern were not emotions found between them.

"Em, I'm sorry I haven't been around as much lately since moving. Sometimes it's hard to find..."

"It's fine, Dean," she cut him off, not wanting to hear a forced apology. Not needing one. "I've been busy myself; have met some people through work and doing my own thing." She sighed, biting at her lower lip. She really didn't do friendships very well at all. "How's the new place?" she asked, not being able to bring herself to ask after Candy.

"Yeah, it's good. You should come round one day. Do you remember that dentist family you ended up with once? The ones with the tree-house out back?"

Emma remembered. She remembered every family she'd ever been with - whether she wanted to or not. The Harwell's hadn't been that bad; gods knew she'd had worse.

"Mmhmm," was her only reply.

"It's like that, but without a tree-house. First time out of an apartment. I mean, Em, there's grass!"

He'd given another short laugh and she truly tried to be happy for him. However, the only thing she felt was her pretence once again pushing to the surface - the one thing they had in common with each other; when dealing with one another.

"Hey that's great, Dean. I'm really happy for you."

And it wouldn't matter how much she might have meant it, might have _wanted_ to mean it, she just didn't have it inside her to care. Maybe that's how she'd always been, devoid of that ability - that one human trait. Maybe her parents had known it, the moment she'd been born, and rather than deal with an emotionally void child they'd simply handed her off to the system - somebody else's problem. She kicked at the ground again with the toes of her boot, reining in her melancholy and wholly unsubstantiated thoughts.

"So, tonight?" Dean asked one more time.

"Plans. Out and about, painting the town red, that kinda thing."

She exhaled, itching to hang up the phone, itching inside as if a living thing were crawling beneath her skin. She shuddered with a nervous energy.

"Alright Em. Give me a call if anything changes."

"Will do," she replied, both of them knowing full well that she wouldn't.

With only a slight pause, she pulled the phone away from her ear, thankful when she could finally end the call.

Slipping the phone in to her back pocket once more, she glanced up at the shop before her. With a slump to her shoulders and the barest sigh of defeat, she entered.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina stared at the Incredible Hulk figure in her hands, noticing a small scuffmark where the paint had started to come off the plastic of his hair. A slight frown ghosted across her features as she picked up the nearest black permanent marker and coloured over the offending mark. There was still nothing remarkable about this toy, nothing she could see that would differentiate it from the thousands more that certainly were mass-produced, but still she could not stop staring at it. Every look, every touch of it a reminder of Emma. She knew it was absurd, a toy undoubtedly bought without much thought and destined for a charity bin. Instead, here it was with her, their son's most treasured item.

Shifting on her seat a little, she turned the toy over in her hands, ensuring everything else was still in working order. With each touch and glance of this small toy she felt the heavy thud of her heart beat against its cage; a slow torture of which she knew no respite. Truthfully, she did not know if she would have taken it if one had been presented. To feel once more was still so new, even if the emotion she had was a longing so great, pushing against her chest and threatening to suffocate her if she was not careful. But still, it highlighted an emotion of which she had not felt in so very many years; something she had been so certain she would never feel again. Even this pain, this dull ache that had taken up residence within her, was not something she would trade away for a second if it meant never finding Emma again.

And so Regina endured that dull ache inside her, the dull ache that named itself Emma and had carved a place out within her, reminding her at every opportunity that something almost as important as breathing was missing from her life.

With a start, she was shaken from her reverie as the doors to her office were flung open.

As if she were a child caught with her hand in the cookie jar, she threw the toy back in to her desk drawer and closed it quickly. Even so, she was careful to ensure it landed in its own place that she had made for it and would not be damaged upon its landing.

A smile spread across her lips as she looked up, Henry running towards her as Kathryn entered the room not too far behind him.

"Mommy!" he said as he threw himself on to her lap, hugging her tightly before pulling himself up to sit on her lap properly.

"Hello, my prince, how was school today?" She brushed his hair from his face, only to watch him toss it all back in to his eyes moments later.

"Awesome!" Henry enthused as he opened up his backpack and pulled out a colouring book and some pencils. "I got this today in class because I was the best!"

Regina shot a look over Henry's head towards Kathryn.

"Every child got one," Kathryn said, answering the unasked question.

With a small smile, she watched Henry as he began to flip through the colouring book, showing her all the pictures he had already begun to fill in. She spent a few moments admiring his work before finally turning her attention back to Kathryn.

"Thank you for bringing him over," she said as the blonde woman took a seat opposite her.

"It was no trouble at all," Kathryn replied. "Your offices are on the way home from work so it's not difficult to drop him by whenever you need."

Regina shifted Henry's weight upon her lap, moving him slightly to the side.

"Do you have any plans for the evening?" Regina asked, finding the small talk easy to come by, something upon which she could divert her attention. "If not, it's movie and pizza night. The extra company would not be unwelcome."

She had noticed in times when she was stressed, her more formal tones became pronounced. Often she wondered if there would ever be a time when she would feel truly comfortable around the residents of Storybrooke.

"That would be wonderful, thank you." Kathryn was quick to accept. "The house feels so empty sometimes," she said, her eyes glazing over a little, a distant look coming upon them. With a few blinks she covered the slip and brought a smile to her face. "You know, Henry has been going on about Halloween costumes for next week, if you're tied up here I can take him to the costume hire shop and see if there is anything available?"

At the mention of Halloween, Henry squirmed on Regina's lap, almost squealing in delight. Truly, Regina believed she would never tire of the range of emotions her son displayed on a daily basis. Every day for her was a new blessing.

She had intended to take Henry to look for costumes this weekend, but if Kathryn were willing to help narrow down the search, or find a costume for him entirely, she would not look that gift horse in the mouth.

"Please, be my guest," she quipped, much to Henry's pleasure. The small boy wriggled off her lap, almost jumping in his happiness. A quick glance in his direction and she could almost see the joy radiating from him.

"Mommy," he said, gaining his mother's full attention, "can I take the Incredible Hulk with me?"

It was a momentary lapse in her judgement and even looking back upon it, she couldn't fully understand why she answered as she had. It was such an inconsequential thing, nothing for her to need to cover, nothing for her to hide. There had been no reason for it, and until this day she had never been untruthful to her son - not blatantly, not selfishly. And yet, that knowledge did not stop her answering her son the way she had.

"It's at home, Henry," she'd said, the lie passing her lips as easily as breathing, as easily as truth. The moment it had left her mouth, she had wished she could call it back, the crestfallen look upon his face almost enough to break her heart. But it had been spoken, given form, the lie had been established.

"But Mommy, you always bring him to work," he pleaded, his eyes turning towards hers in a way that almost always brought him exactly what he wanted.

"Not today, my prince, I'm sorry. I left him at home." The lie continued to tumble and take form, continued to sound as convincing as truth. Such a small lie; a small lie to a six year old who would never understand from where this toy had come, what this toy signified. It was just one white lie and such a trivial one at that; in the grand scheme of all the things she had done, this would not even rate. But if that were so, why did she suddenly feel these pangs of guilt? She sighed as her shoulders sagged; it was too late to relent and give it to him without questions arising from the blonde on the other side of the desk.

"Come on Henry," Kathryn interjected, "don't you want to go and find yourself a costume for Halloween next week?" She had tried to sound upbeat, to bring the small child out of his sadness over the toy.

"Go on, my prince," Regina added, "find us both a costume."

This last bit had ignited a bit of life in to the small boy before her.

"You mean I can choose one for you, Mommy?" His eyes sparkled and she knew she would deny him nothing.

"Anything you like, Henry," she said, smiling as she ran her hand over his head, pushing those stray strands of hair back once more.

She watched as Henry tilted his head, a twitch of a smile making its appearance on his face in a perfect likeness to Emma. That impossible spark once again made its presence felt at the thought, and the slightest shudder ran through her causing her to exhale slowly. From the corner of her eye she caught a look of concern flash across Kathryn's face. With a gentle nudge, she pushed Henry forward.

"Off you go, my prince," she said as she forced a smile across her face, a bad taste in the back of her throat.

Kathryn turned to the small boy and gave him what appeared, to Regina, to be a far more genuine smile. Her stomach clenched.

"Henry, why don't you wait out with Rachael? I just need to talk to your Mom for a minute," she lowered her voice conspiratorially, "about Halloween stuff."

Regina watched as Henry ran off without so much as a backward glance, his mind obviously consumed with the upcoming holiday.

"Is everything ok, Regina?" Kathryn asked, concerned.

"Yes, of course," she answered, perhaps a little too quickly. "Just a lot of work to get through when I'd much rather be at home on a Friday afternoon." As if to emphasize her point, she gestured to the piles of paperwork still covering her desk.

If Kathryn intended to add anything else to her question, she made no motion to do so, instead sweeping her eyes over the desk full of manila folders and binders, coloured post-it notes and a calculator.

To Regina's relief, Kathryn changed the subject.

"Any suggestions on a costume?"

"Something age appropriate. You know as well as I where his current passions lay." She leaned back against her chair as she felt the first stirrings of a tension headache begin to spread through the base of her neck.

"And for yourself?" Kathryn asked.

Regina gave a short bark of laughter before turning a genuinely amused smile to her counterpart.

"Something that won't have me laughed out of the town meeting on the following Monday. I do not want to give those old councilmen an eyeful when Henry inevitably drags me to go trick or treating with him."

Kathryn grinned as she picked up her handbag and turned to leave.

"You'll miss it when he's older," she called over her shoulder, the soft click of her heels beating a rhythm against the floor as she left.

As the door closed behind the blonde woman, Regina slid open her desk drawer once more, removing the plastic toy. A soft sigh escaped her lips as her fingers made contact with the figurine and the impossible spark flared once more. As always, the flare was followed by the dull ache within, as if a limb had been amputated and the body could not properly register its loss. Thumbing across the smooth plastic she placed the toy back in the drawer, finally resigning herself to finishing her work so she could spend an easy evening with her son and someone who was as close to being a friend as perhaps she had ever had.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma kicked the door to her apartment closed and toed off her boots, warmth from the afternoon sun emanating from her body. After putting down the small package on the counter top she went to her room, intent on changing out of jeans in to something a little cooler in this stifling apartment. It didn't take her long to dig out a pair of denim shorts, and coupled with her tank top she finally felt a cooler change against her skin. Heading back in to the kitchen she poured herself a generous mix of vodka and orange and downed it quickly. A second mix saw her putting the glass on the table in the living room, opening the window on the far side to allow a breeze in as the sun slowly began to descend below the horizon.

Flicking on the television as she walked past, she began to scan the titles of the dvd collection Dean had left behind. Every nerve screamed at her, every thought, no matter how innocuous, leading down a winding trail, always leading to a memory of that one dark haired woman who seemed to beat within her. She closed her eyes tightly, steadying herself against the shelf before taking a deep, shaking breath. _Titles, Em, just read the titles_. And so she did, taking the time to read each and every one until finally choosing 'The Brain That Wouldn't Die' as the first of what she knew would be a series of terrible movies and alcohol.

The sun finally sunk below the horizon, darkness settling upon the small apartment as Emma curled up on the couch with her drink; the warmth of the alcohol offsetting the rapidly cooling nighttime air. The movie was as bad as she remembered and she had found herself refilling her drink twice more throughout the film. From outside she could hear the occasional sounds of a group of revelling people walk through the park, enjoying their Friday night - a situation in stark contrast to herself. _At least_, she thought, _the alcohol is doing its job of distraction_. The buzz of the alcohol was truly working its way through her and she caught herself humming in appreciation.

As the movie ended and the credits began to roll, the entire apartment was plunged in to an almost complete darkness. It took her considerable effort to stand up and turn the light on, her limbs having become heavy from her multiple vodka and orange drinks. With a sigh of recognition, she noticed the package still sitting upon the kitchen counter and felt a small wave of regret wash over her as she thought back to Meg.

She had delivered the same lie to Meg as she had to Dean when Meg had asked her about her plans for the evening - a part of her actually wishing there had been an element of truth to her words. She hadn't wanted to appear completely friendless today, hadn't wanted any perceived pity from either Dean or Meg, and so the lie had slipped out easily. It was with a shrug of her shoulders and a final gulp to finish her drink that she made her way back in to the kitchen and opened up the white paper bag, retrieving the small cardboard box from within.

Tradition was a difficult thing to pass by, and try as she might she had followed this routine ever since she had a couple of quarters to her name. It was her one guilty, selfish pleasure; her one plea and her one hope.

She lifted the small cupcake out of the box and placed it upon the counter, realizing she had no idea if there were candles in the apartment. With a sharp exhale of frustration she went in search around the kitchen, opening every cupboard, turning out every drawer. The closest she came to a candle was a small packet of wooden skewers; she supposed they would have to do.

Snapping one in half, she placed it in the cupcake and stared at this pitiful excuse of hope and redemption.

"Another banner year," she murmured derisively to herself as she lit a match, waiting longer than normal for the wooden skewer to take to the flame.

And so she stared as the skewer began to burn down, the flame reaching higher than it ordinarily would have if it had been a candle.

"Happy birthday, Em," she said quietly to herself as she closed her eyes, concentrating on her wish.

Moments later she opened them and blew out her makeshift candle, finding herself holding her breath expectantly afterwards.

As the beats turned in to minutes she finally released her breath, realizing once again the futility of wishing upon a flame stuck in a piece of confectionary. Taking the half-burnt skewer out, she threw it in to the sink and sighed. One day, she knew, things would have to get better.

She stared at the small cupcake, its red icing in stark contrast to the white kitchen bench below it. For some inexplicable reason, she hated this cupcake, hated what it signified and all the things it didn't. Hated the way the icing sat perfectly upon it, hated the symmetry; hated that she was here, alone once more on her birthday. This cupcake symbolized her failing, made all the more glaringly obvious by the woman who had entered her dreams twice already. The same woman who had felt more real to her in a 24-hour period than anyone else had in her entire life. If she thought too long on her, too hard, she could still feel the burning trail of lips and tongue and fingers upon her heated skin. And that ache in her chest that she could not control, a small room inside carved out where Regina now took up residence, would not relent in its insistence of acknowledgment of this woman.

And so Emma blamed this cupcake, this symbolic, insignificant cupcake. Blamed it for her failings and for her cowardice; a weakness she would never admit to if she were sober. The cupcake sat, taunting her with its perfection - the only mar upon its otherwise unblemished icing was the small hole the skewer had left within it. A wave of anger rolled through her, at herself, at this cupcake, at everything it never was and all the things she might be. With a final act of retaliation upon it, she picked it up and threw it in to the sink, watching it break apart in a mixture of red and white, falling to pieces in the stainless steel sink - crumbling in a perfect mirror image to herself.

The satisfaction she had expected to feel was not forthcoming, instead the emptiness inside gaped at her and left her feeling bereft. Filling her drink up once more, she returned back to the living room, set to watch another terrible movie and hopefully drink enough to forget this entire night.

* * *

o

* * *

The night had gone well once Regina had arrived home, surreptitiously placing the Incredible Hulk on the kitchen table for Henry to find. Homemade pizza had been enjoyed by them all and they had settled down to watch Shrek on dvd. To Regina's surprise, Henry had remained awake throughout the entire movie and was only just beginning to get sleepy when it came time for him to start getting ready for bed. Without much prompting, he had said goodnight to Kathryn and was already under the covers when Regina had gone upstairs to read him a short story before sleep.

By the time she had finished and walked back downstairs, Kathryn had washed up the dishes from dinner and was collecting her handbag from the living room as she prepared to leave. Pleasantries had been exchanged and, to Regina's surprise, Kathryn had clasped her hand quickly between her own before departing for the night. She found it only slightly eased the loneliness inside to have someone with which she could share these small allocations of time when she could not distract her mind with other tasks.

With a hot cup of coffee in hand, she had curled up on the sofa once more - a late night movie starring Audrey Hepburn playing until finally, with unfocused eyes and a heavy head, she was able to call it a night and go to bed.

So now, when Regina was on the very cusp of sleep, she heard her phone ring; a generic ringtone that could have belonged to anyone. With a bleary eye, she spotted the glowing hands of the clock beside her bed, noticing it was creeping close to 1am. A part of her wanted to roll over and ignore the sound, but her job as mayor precluded such selfish, albeit desirable, acts.

Picking up her phone she saw that it was a blocked number and once again wondered if she could just ignore it; pretend the phone had been out of her reach when whoever was on the other end had called. But if this were an emergency, if there was a problem within the town, she would need to know and be ready to act.

Pulling herself together, she answered the phone, trying to disguise the sleep from her voice.

"Hello?" she asked.

Regina blinked and rubbed at her eyes as she waited, hearing nothing on the other end of the line. If this were a prank call from one of the local teenagers, she would be quite annoyed.

"Hello?" she said again, doing her best to smother a yawn after a few more beats of silence had extended through the phone.

Almost, she thought, she could hear a noise - so faint upon the line.

"Hello? If someone's there, I'll need you to speak up."

Again she thought she might have heard the faintest of noises, the barest whisper of a sigh travelling to her ear. Her heart pricked at hope, but she quickly shut it down, steeling it against hurt once more. It had been two months - two long, painful months where her only comfort came from surrounding herself with anything that would keep her mind occupied. Anything that would not bring her attention to what was so obviously missing. She exhaled softly and tamped down on that line of thought.

"If someone's there, I can't hear you," she said, pausing briefly before continuing. "The Sherriff's department is available for emergencies, however if this is not an emergency, please call back during office hours." Her tone held just the right amount of authority and annoyance.

Regina waited, the silence on the other end of the line stretching on, her nerves raw and senses heightened. Her frustration at herself began to push forward, warring with that tiny sliver of hope that had seemed to embed itself in her chest, which wanted to radiate out over her body and cover her in its cold blanket of futility.

_One last effort_, she bargained with herself; not wanting to admit she was hoping beyond all reasonable hope this was not just some prankster.

"If there's someone there, let me know - otherwise I'm hanging up on the count of three."

It wasn't the most eloquent thing she could have said and when she reached the count of three in her mind, she sighed loudly in a mixture of frustration and bitter disappointment. What else had she truly expected?

As she began to move the phone away to disconnect the call, she heard a distinct noise on the other end of the line, a soft grunt, feminine in quality. It was followed by a word, thick with alcohol, but definable nonetheless.

"Regina."

At the sound of Emma's voice, it took all her willpower not to shatter completely, not to leap out of bed and not to cry. Her entire body was a mixed bag of emotions, all vying for prominence in her mind. _Could it be?_ Her body hummed with anticipation, with hope and with need. Fingers wound through the satin of her nightshirt, the rapid beat of her heart tapping its own code against its cage beneath her hand.

"Emma?" she whispered, barely daring to breathe, barely daring to hope.

"Mmm, Gina," the voice on the other end of the line said. Slurred as it was, unmistakeably Emma.

"Gods, Emma," she breathed, her throat clutching as her heart pounded wildly inside her chest. She repeated the name again, wanting to anchor it to this time in space, to force it in to tangibility so she could grasp it and never let it go.

She waited, almost holding her breath as she strained for even the slightest sound against the small phone she held to her ear. Another shuffle reached her ears and a sigh; a long, deep sigh that she could imagine the blonde woman on the other end shuddering at its conclusion.

The impossible spark arced in her mind, firing to every nerve, every pulse point; to the tips of her toes and the tips of her fingers. And most of all, she realized, she could feel it in her heart - that muscle she had been so sure, for so many years, would never function properly again.

"I've missed you, Emma," she admitted quietly, finding that the last two months of hurt were slowly ebbing away - Emma's mere presence a balm to her open wound.

"Missed you, too," came the thick reply and Regina found she was unable to hold back the silent tears that streaked their way down her face.

There were so many things she wanted to say to her, to tell her, to confess to her - and it took all of her willpower not to overwhelm the delicate truce Emma had initiated.

"Emma, where are you?" Regina asked quietly as her eyes once again slipped to the clock on the bedside table - the time rapidly approaching 1am.

Another shuffle and a sigh were her only responses.

She felt her breath hitch as the question remained unanswered. _And if Emma doesn't want to be found?_ That traitorous thought passed through her mind, unwelcome, uninvited and caused her jaw to tense momentarily in defiance.

She shook her head to clear her mind, refusing to be deflated. Instead, she tried another tack.

"What time is it for you?"

"Midnight." There was a pause and a faint click before another word emerged through the phone. "Almost."

_One time zone over_, Regina thought, _that narrows it down a little_. If Emma had travelled west out of Tallahassee, she was confident she could at least pin a probable area and have Phil narrow it down further again. Searching the whole of the United States had quickly become an exercise in futility.

If only Emma would tell her where she was, she wouldn't hesitate to leave at once and bring her home; bring her back to her family. At that very thought, another arc from the impossible spark leaped through her body, achingly beautiful in its intensity, threatening to overwhelm her.

It took Regina a moment to realize she heard a faint sniff from the other woman and she ached for her.

"Emma, what is it? What can I do?"

She hated feeling this helpless, so far away and unable to do anything but listen.

"It hurts," Emma said, that same unmistakeable slur in her voice, "everything."

Another pregnant pause, another shuffle from the other end of the line. Regina realized she had no comforting words, nothing she could say here that would make everything all right. All she could do was murmur the other woman's name once more.

There was another sniff at the other end of the line before a brief muffling of the phone as if it were covered with a sheet. But the words, as quiet as they were, resounded in Regina's mind.

"I wish... I wish you could hold me."

And she wiped at the tears that fell freely from her eyes; silent droplets of saltwater trailing their way down her cheeks to soak her pillow.

"I want to," she'd answered softly, "if you'll let me." Her voice had surprised her by holding steady, but betrayed her by putting so much hope, so much vulnerability in to those words. It seemed around this woman all her walls were destined to come crumbling down, and the prospect both thrilled and terrified her.

"I just..." Emma sighed, "I didn't want ... to be alone on my birthday."

It was with this one admission that Regina's heart shattered in to a thousand glass shards within her chest.

"Emma," she began, "let me..." She swallowed thickly, her throat clutching as she struggled with her words. "Let me come and get you. You don't have to be alone. _We_ don't have to be alone anymore."

She waited again, barely daring to breathe.

"Regina."

And she heard it in the tone, the disappointment, the mistrust - even thick with alcohol and weariness, it was there; unmistakeable. Her heart dropped and her stomach coiled in knots as she told herself, over and again, this is what she should have expected; it was the very least of what she deserved.

"Can you just," Emma began, the words becoming less coherent, sleep and drunkenness pulling her under. "Just, tell me why."

It didn't need any further explanation and Regina would have liked nothing more than to have the opportunity to explain, to confess and ask forgiveness. But not like this, not over the phone and certainly not with Emma three sheets to the wind.

"Not now," she replied, "but I will. I promise, one day I will tell you everything."

Regina let her head sink back against the pillow as she heard Emma's soft breaths come through the phone. The stretches of time between Emma speaking were growing further apart, but still the connection remained open between them.

Finally, she heard that soft voice again as she willed herself to stay awake for the blonde woman who currently resided within her chest.

"Stay with me, Gina." She heard the pleading in Emma's voice, the longing and the fear. "Don't let me be alone tonight."

Regina felt that clutch in her throat once more, the tightness constricting her chest as she fought against the sting behind her eyes. Had love always been this painful? Had the years softened her, made her forgetful; had things hurt this much with Daniel? She couldn't remember, wasn't sure - but somehow none of that mattered now, not with Emma on the other end of the line.

"I'll never leave," she murmured, looking at a conjured image of Emma in her mind's eye.

She waited for a response, for anything, but found she was greeted only with silence. A few moments was all it took before she finally heard the soft, even breaths on the other end of the line. It felt oddly comforting, Emma falling asleep on the phone with her; she allowed herself one deep, shaking breath and felt a small, hopeful smile ghost across her lips for the briefest of moments as the longing in her chest reminded her once more of its continued presence.

And so it was, to the quiet breathing of Emma at the other end of the phone that Regina finally drifted off to sleep, her cell pressed securely against her ear.

It took the briefest of moments when she awoke the following morning for her to remember why her eyes felt swollen and sore, and why her cell phone was clutched so tightly within her hand. With the sting of renewed tears behind her eyes, she realized her phone battery was dead, the connection having remained open all night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: Thanks, as always, to Jo - her advice and corrections are always very much appreciated. I want to shout out to Nat, as well, for taking the time to read over these ramblings :)**

**A/N: I am really sorry for how long it took for this update. With both Christmas and the New Year, events conspired (quite strongly, and quite successfully) to keep me from writing. However, I am back - and I do hope the length of this update somewhat mitigates the fact it was 6 weeks in the making. I really am sorry!**

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o

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Slowly she walked down the internal staircase of her home; her hand sliding against the white painted banister - less as a guide, but more as a feeling of something tangible against her body. The house was quiet; it was always quiet these days, and with it, there was always that sense of loneliness - of something lost, never to be recovered. In the distant recesses of her mind, she could almost remember a time when there had been laughter in the house; almost recall what it felt like to be loved. They were more ghosts of memories, as if remembering a time and place because a photograph was taken, rather than the events that transpired. Sometimes she felt the photographs were all she had left.

Her foot connected with the bottom step as she pulled her jacket tighter around her shoulders; summer was already becoming a distant memory as winter edged closer by the day. A glance towards the front door and another ghost of a memory pressed lightly at the corners of her mind, not forcing itself forward; reminding her of a distant past that even now she could not be sure had even existed - if only it weren't for those photographs. Pictures kept in an old shoebox at the back of her closet and always a shock when she re-discovered their presence. Just as she had this morning when looking for a pair of boots to match her Halloween outfit. It had been a surprise when she had found the boots lying buried at the back of her closet, discarded and neglected. Even more startling for her was the box of photographs tucked away tightly in the corner, their existence long since forgotten.

Pictures of a different time that tugged at her memories; of a husband, of their dog and their talk of having children. However, it had all been too much, whether moving too fast or not moving fast enough she didn't know - would never know now. No longer could she remember what had precipitated him leaving, only that he had, and he had been gone for so many years now. It felt as if it had always been this way; her alone, yearning for a life that no longer existed. The shock of finding the photographs had only driven home how lonely she was once more, how her life was passing her by and there was nothing but the empty feeling of inevitability and the stale taste of resignation to keep her company at night.

Kathryn shrugged her shoulders deeply as she headed in to the kitchen and collected the plate of cookies she had baked earlier in the day. Baking was certainly not her thing, but with the help of some cookie cutters, coloured icing and an easy to follow recipe book, she had been able to produce a plate of Halloween themed sweets that left her feeling a small sense of pride. It was only that Regina had told her three times during the course of the week not to bring anything other than herself that had left her determined not to arrive empty-handed. Her eyes skimmed over the tidy kitchen; a solitary plate rested on the drying rack - a remnant of the lunch she had consumed by herself once again. The predominantly white coffee cup with gold trim and a small gold crown pattern at its side was still placed next to the coffee machine after this morning's breakfast - yet another testament to her single, uninspired life. The lone spoon, the one knife, the one fork; for once Kathryn regarded this house with a hint of disdain, for all the trappings of home it could offer, but had never once delivered. She turned with her plate of cookies, leaving the kitchen with a touch of melancholy in her heart.

There was only the brief stop in the living room to collect the bags containing the Mills' family costumes and a third bag containing her own. She had been sworn to secrecy by Henry regarding the outfits after their shopping expedition the week before - not that it had mattered in the end. Regina had been so busy all week that the only question she was asked was in relation to the appropriateness of the costumes themselves. Busy and distracted seemed to be Regina's new motto. It wasn't something she could pinpoint, just a vague feeling on a few occasions when she had been speaking with the older woman that perhaps her mind was working on another, more important task. She supposed, however, that running a town did have its downside and perhaps this was just one of them - never truly being able to settle, mind always distracted on the multitude of things that needed doing to keep Storybrooke running as smoothly as the well oiled machine that it was.

Scooping up the handles of the bags in her free arm, she made her way to the front door, feet falling against the tiles. The echo sent an involuntary shiver down her spine as she thought, not for the first time, that perhaps this house was too big for just one person. At times like this, she would sometimes wonder if she would be better off moving to Boston and going to school as she had planned _before_ – before marriage, before settling down. However, the cold tingling began in the tips of her fingers and her face felt drained of blood as her heart clenched with dread at the thought of leaving Storybrooke; once more the idea was dismissed from her mind as it had been so many times before. Her hand closed around the door handle and she let out a deep, shuddering breath as the last thoughts of moving towns left her, exhaled from her mind as if it were air from her lungs.

With a soft click the door closed behind her and her gaze travelled to her small front yard; the thought that the windmill was gone crossed her mind briefly before she headed down the few steps that led from her front door. It wasn't a great distance to her car and she soon found herself heading to the Mayor's residence with the hope of enjoying a holiday with someone other than herself and a bottle of wine.

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o

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Regina had been swinging between emotional extremities all week - not, she assumed, that anyone would have noticed. The years of practice at hiding all behind a mask of indifference had once more proven useful to her. Daily she carried herself with an air of authority and ease, whilst crawling below the surface of her skin was a tingling sensation leftover from her call with Emma. That impossible spark continued to fire randomly throughout the days since the call, hitting the Mayor when she least expected it, leaving her breathless and weak.

At her first available opportunity, she had spoken with Sidney in order to discuss the possibility of back tracing the call from Emma. Sidney, as useful as ever, had promised to get back to her with that information from Phil as soon as he could. As a result, she had spent the first half of the week jumping at every phone call in the mixed hopes it was Emma or Sidney; and each call that turned out to be from her office or from a department over which she resided was just another hot poker to her side. Another burn to her overwrought body, another slice from her mind and another chip from her soul. By Thursday, her stoic façade was nothing more than a brittle shell housing her crumbling emotions.

She had spent the previous weekend clutching the phone to her hand, staring blankly at the screen, willing it to call out its synthesized sound once more. Stubbornly, however, it had refused to do so, instead only bleating out its existence once - a telemarketer wanting to inform her of the latest offers. She'd hung up before he finished his first sentence. Even when watching her son play on his castle in the backyard, the phone was pressed securely in her hand; a heavy weight that she felt the loss of every time she was forced to put it down. Only once, whilst she sipped bitter, black coffee, did her mind wander from the cell phone. Henry had been jumping from the castle to the ground below and she envisioned that adding a slide to the castle would be more fun for him - perhaps green, in a semblance to the Incredible Hulk. It was something she intended to look in to in the coming weeks.

It had been such a long week filled with only her hopes being crushed time and again when every call she answered was not Emma - and truthfully, she was exhausted. The week had been survived only through grim determination and the fact she had performed these same tasks, year in and year out, for nearly a quarter of a century. _A lot_, she assumed, _could be said for muscle memory_. Almost all the things she had planned to have ready for Halloween this year had fallen to the last minute - and it galled her no end to be so unprepared.

So here she found herself, standing barefoot in her kitchen with her son - decorating cupcakes and cookies in all manner of ghastly and horrifying creations. Her phone was pressed tightly in the pocket of her jeans, both a comfort and a painful reminder every time she moved and felt the edges dig in to her thigh. No matter how much she wished it, the phone remained silent - almost taunting her inability to find that golden-haired woman once more.

Inadvertently her eyes crept over to the shaggy hair of her son, icing smeared against the back of his hands and against his shirt. As if sensing her eyes on him, his head turned towards her and the corners of his mouth creased in to a grin. She saw it then, once more - the smile that was Emma's - and a small wave of helplessness washed over her, drenching her, threatening to leave her shivering in its wake.

It was gone in a fraction of a heartbeat in time, his attention diverted once more to finishing the decoration on the last cupcake. She noticed how he bit his tongue between his teeth as he concentrated on placing the candy in exactly the right spots to create a ... she took a closer look ... to create whatever it was he was creating. A smile could not help but cross her features as she watched him concentrate. Finally, he stepped away, wiping his hands down his shirt, much to her chagrin, and turned back towards her.

"Finished!" he exclaimed, blowing a strand of hair from his eyes that fell back almost immediately. A trip to the hairdresser would likely be on the agenda for the coming week.

"They look delicious, my prince," she replied, trying her best to tuck that wayward lock of hair behind his ear.

The way he licked his lips and eyed the confectionary spoke volumes and she was quick to place covers over the sweets to ward off any questions about exactly _when_ he would be allowed to eat them. The puppy dog expression he gave her as she had done so was confirmation enough that was precisely what he had been thinking. Regina licked her thumb and wiped at a stray bit of icing that had made it on to his cheek before taking in his overall appearance once more. As expected, he tried to squirm away as she cleaned off the traces of icing.

They had been baking together for most of the morning and decorating the results of their cooking once lunch had been finished. Henry had some flour still in his hair, smudges of icing on his face and hands and she was almost certain the colouring from the icing was going to stain his shirt after he had summarily wiped his hands on it. Thankfully it was an old shirt that was beginning to be too short in the arms for him; undoubtedly it would be replaced by Santa once Christmas arrived.

"Upstairs for a shower, my prince," she said, giving him a gentle nudge and leading him out of the kitchen.

Before he could voice any protest there was a knock at the door that set a wild light to his eyes - if for no other reason than it would delay the inevitable but distasteful task of _bathing_.

"Coming!" he yelled as he raced away, leaving her shaking her head with a slow smile spreading across her face.

As the door swung open it emitted a low creak that could be heard from the kitchen, reminding her once again that she had meant to oil it this week but had been so pre-occupied it had slipped her mind entirely. As she took her first steps towards the foyer she felt her cell phone press against her leg and the impossible spark burnt low and deep in her stomach. The intensity of the low flame it had created inside her caused her to pause as her heart seemed to skip a beat. For the briefest of moments, she could once more feel Emma's lips on her own, taste her tongue and smell her scent upon her skin; that impossible spark reminding her how things were, how things could have been _if only_. If only she had been a better person, if only she had been honest with Emma – if only she had hidden all those damn files and … she took a deep breath. She had been down the 'if only' road so many times in the previous months it was like a well travelled friend now. Kathryn's voice calling her name broke the spell the impossible spark had created over her and it was only then she realized she must have been standing in the kitchen for more than the few, brief seconds she had initially imagined.

Straightening herself up, she slid her hand from the kitchen counter and smoothed out her button down blouse in one swift motion. It had been a small shock when she'd heard Kathryn's voice so close, and belatedly realized she must have gripped the counter to her side when the spark had shot through her. Still, she eyed the woman in front of her briefly to see if anything were amiss; whether there would be a comment about her temporary lapse. When nothing but a genuine smile was given to her and a plate of Halloween cookies held out, a breath she had not realized she was holding escaped from her lungs.

"Kathryn," she said by way of greeting, forcing a smile to the surface as she took the plate from the other woman's outstretched hand and placing it on the kitchen counter. "Thank you for these," a wave of her hand indicated the cookies Kathryn had brought with her, "really, you didn't have to."

"It was no trouble," the blonde woman replied as she retreated to the dining area, sitting down heavily upon a chair and finally putting the bags of costumes down at her feet.

Regina eyed the bags somewhat warily, suddenly conscious of the fact she had put very little thought in to what Henry had chosen for her. Whatever it was, she would be stuck with it - it was far too late in the day now to exchange the costume for anything else.

Her eyes must have lingered for too long over the bags as Kathryn began to speak once more.

"I gave Henry the bag with his costume a few minutes ago," she said with an apologetic shrug of her shoulders, "he mumbled something about taking a shower and raced off upstairs."

A shadow of a smile ghosted across the Mayor's face as she tried to imagine her young son running up the stairs enthusiastically for a shower.

"Finally, something to motivate him into showering. It's a shame it can't be Halloween every day," she answered lightly.

"He's a good boy," Kathryn had replied, her eyes glancing up the staircase as if she, too, could still see Henry running up.

It was an offhand comment, said without any malicious intent, but at hearing those words, Regina bristled. It was irrational and sudden, this absurd idea that the blonde woman was trying to inform her that Henry was a well-behaved child; as if she did not already know this about her son. Pressing a hand to her stomach, she concentrated on her breathing until the feeling subsided, finding herself inwardly alarmed at her emotional response. _After this week, though_, she thought to herself, _it's no wonder I'm jumping at everything_. With a small pang of something akin to regret, she remembered snapping at Rachael just the day before over something so inconsequential she couldn't even remember what it was.

As the feeling passed, she trusted herself to look back towards the woman who had spoken and was stunned with the expression on Kathryn's face. It was almost as if she were no longer seeing Regina's house, but imagining another time, another place where she might be happy; daydreaming of a better life that she would never have.

Remorse was not a feeling the Mayor was comfortable acknowledging, and the look Kathryn had on her face shifted something inside Regina that caused an acidic taste to burn in the back of her throat. It had been so long since she felt the need to comfort anyone other than Henry that even the thought of doing so now sent a small ripple of panic up her spine. Instead, she fell back on to what she knew, what had been so ingrained upon her that she could do it by rote.

Coughing lightly she gained the attention of the other woman, who, she noticed, coloured slightly at having been caught daydreaming.

"Would you care for a coffee? Or a tea perhaps, dear?" she asked, before turning and taking those few steps back in to the kitchen. Etiquette. It would never fail her; even if there was no magic to be had in this realm, there was always a certain power that came with correct etiquette - a respect that could be commanded.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you."

"It won't be long. We can have some of those biscuits you baked earlier and then," Regina said, pausing long enough to turn back and face the woman sitting at the dining table, "you can tell me what costume my son has chosen for me this evening."

It was with a small smile that Kathryn nodded her head in acquiescence.

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o

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Regina's lips curled in to a snarl, surprising even herself when she heard a low growl form in the back of her throat. She could not have stopped the disgust written plainly across her face even if she had wanted; this was not how she had envisioned spending the evening.

Holding the costume by the shoulders, barely touching it, the material pressed between only her thumbs and index fingers, she looked it over once more and scowled.

_Kathryn had excused herself after they had finished their tea and coffee respectively. Their conversation had flowed easily enough as the art of small talk came back to Regina in an all too familiar manner. The general chatter of the royal courts was enough to gall her, but it had taught her well - something she had found use for on more than one occasion._

_Friendships were difficult for Regina; not because she had never wanted them, for she had at one point - her heart had yearned for many years for a connection on some level until it had eventually resigned itself to a life of solitude. For as long as she could remember, true friendship had been one of the rarest commodities, something her elevated stature in the town where she was born had been unable to buy. If anything, born in to a wealthy family had separated her, segregated her, marked her as an outcast from the moment she took her first breath of life. What had appeared to come so easily to the peasant children was something she experienced only once in her childhood._

_She had found an old dress in her cupboard that her Mother had not yet thrown out. As she had pulled it over her head, she had heard a small tear and the sound caused a grimace to cross her features - this had once been a favourite dress. It was too short in the sleeves and too tight in the waist, falling awkwardly over her hips. Even so, with it being too short and too tight for her rapidly growing frame, she felt beautiful in the pale blue material._

_Mother had been visiting a neighbouring town and her Daddy was at the stables; she should have been studying her lessons, but the day was so warm and the air so clean all she had wanted to do was run outside and play._

_And so she had, running through the grassy areas surrounding the family home, carefree and wild, the earth calling to her as each bare footed step landed against it. Before she had realized, she was at the edge of town, her feet covered in dirt, her dress smudged from having fallen on countless occasions, her hair in complete disarray. If her Mother were here, she would have been punished for appearing in public in such a manner. Shame had coloured her cheeks._

_As she turned to run back to her home, a girl had appeared at her side, no older than Regina's own thirteen years._

_"Hello," the girl had said, a grin across her face - not in the least bit shy or wary._

_Regina had stood there frozen to the spot, the shock of someone speaking to her whilst she was in such an unclean state was paralysing - her Mother had told her, time and again, no one would talk to a dirty child. That voice in her head almost drowned out what the girl had said next._

_"Do you want to play?"_

_Embarrassingly, she had been so caught off guard she was unable to do anything other than nod mutely, stunned at the attention._

_It was as the younger child had pushed her grubby hand in to Regina's and held it tight, leading her through alley ways and behind shops selling all kinds of wares, that she allowed herself to feel free with another person for the first time in her life. To Regina, it was the most wonderful feeling she had ever experienced._

_Months had passed in a similar manner, Regina running from her home, set atop the hill, to the town below whenever the opportunity became available. Rose, the young girl, would always be waiting at the edge of town and they would run free through the crowded streets. Occasionally they would take an apple from the fruit vendor's stall and Regina would never ask why Rose had a knife with her when she cut the apple in half for them to share. Even to Regina's young and inexperienced years, she knew some questions should not be asked._

_So they sat, legs hanging over the edge of a small, wooden bridge that crossed a slow moving stream and stared out at the horizon. Often they had imagined the heroic adventures that would await them when they grew older, when they would leave this town and travel to all the places Regina had read about in her books. Books that she had sometimes brought down to share, to teach Rose how to read and write. It was the only gift she could freely give, and Rose had been enthralled how the swimming scribbles upon the page eventually transformed in to words, sentences and a promise of a better life._

_"I think we'll be best friends forever," Rose had said to her one day, leaning over to hug her tightly before biting in to half an apple._

_Regina had been unable to answer, finding herself lost for words. Instead, she had taken a bite of her half of the apple, savouring the flavour as the juice ran down her chin. If she had known then what she knew now, she would have done things differently - would have found the words her heart had wanted her to say._

_When she had returned to her home that evening, it was quiet - too quiet. She had swallowed thickly as she made her way through the servant's entrance, carefully making her way upstairs to her own room where she could hide her dress once more. However, as she had quietly opened the door to her bedroom, her Mother had been inside waiting - a cruel smile playing across her face._

_It had taken less than a heartbeat in time for Regina to fall to her knees and beg forgiveness - for what, she did not know - only that she had done something terribly wrong. Pain had wracked her body as she kneeled in a semblance of supplication before her Mother, the sparks coursing through her like electricity in her veins. Her eyes had lingered upon a cut on her Mother's forearm, and as her Mother noticed where her eyes had travelled, the wound was healed – as if both it, and the one who had caused it, never existed._

_She never did learn how her Mother had found out about Rose; not, she had supposed, that it would have mattered. At one point Regina had plucked up enough courage to venture to town once again, to search for Rose and apologize for her absence in the intervening weeks; but the fair-haired girl was nowhere to be found. Even as she asked around the streets, fear had flashed in their eyes and everyone had mysteriously forgotten that free-spirited young girl with the mischievous smile and curly, blonde hair. She had spent time at the small bridge, an apple in hand as legs dangled over the side, trying to remember all the plans they had made together._

_With a heavy heart, she had planted a tree in Rose's honour that spring, tending to it with all the compassion she could never show anyone else. It had flourished under her care, growing freely in the garden Regina could see from her bedroom window. She grew it in spite of her Mother, though her Mother praised her for diverting her attention to more worthwhile pursuits. She would sit beneath its spindly branches and read of lands far from where she lived, of places to where she may escape._

_And when the tree bore its first piece of fruit, tears had sprung unbidden to her eyes as she plucked the ripe, red apple from the branches and cut it in half._

So it was that decades later Regina found herself in uncharted territory - a friendship that appeared to be freely offered; the strings she was so used to seeing behind every smile and every gesture could not be found with Kathryn. The thought that it was only the curse that made it so, bore heavily upon her mind.

And so, to divert her thoughts to something wholly less depressing, she had allowed her attention to be caught by the last remaining costume bag upon the floor. Her curiosity piqued, she had no choice but to look once Kathryn had left - the blonde's own costume bag in hand, ready to dress up for no other reason than to keep her company as she supervised her son trick or treating. It was all too unfamiliar and all too painful as a reminder; that someone might want nothing more from her than an escape from the loneliness of their own life. The hand of friendship was extended, if only she knew how to grasp it.

However here she was, standing with barely concealed anger as she held the costume out before her. Had she magic in this realm, it would have been engulfed in a ball of flame. So engrossed was she in this outfit, she did not hear Kathryn come back from changing until the other woman spoke.

"Your Majesty," Kathryn had said, shocking Regina out of her mental struggle against the costume with a title she had not heard for many decades.

"What!" Regina gasped, dropping the outfit to the floor, the material crumpling at her feet as she turned to face the other woman.

It took her almost a minute to comprehend fully the scene before her eyes. On one side was Kathryn, dressed entirely as a knight in a suit of armour, bent at her knee with a plastic sword pointed to the ground, her hands upon its hilt and her head bowed. Next to her was her son, transformed in to something else entirely, something she would have preferred he had not chosen.

The long sleeved white shirt was buttoned high, although she noticed the buttons at the wrists were still undone. A leather belt circled his waist, cinching the navy blue tabard Henry wore over the top of his shirt and highlighting his pale blue pants. The outfit was finished with golden boots and a red cloak clasped at his neck.

"Mommy!" Henry had all but squealed in delight before slipping in to his role with some difficulty. "I mean, Your Royal Highness," he said, affecting a clumsy bow with a flourish.

There was a small part of her that beamed with pride that he had used the correct title for the costumes that had so obviously been chosen for the group, however it was overshadowed by the very thought of what they had, indeed, chosen.

"Do you know who I am, Mommy?" he had asked, grinning cheekily.

She noticed that Kathryn, whilst still on one knee, had raised her head to watch the exchange between mother and son - a quizzical look on her face when she caught Regina's eye. The entire scenario caused bile to rise in her throat and she forced herself to swallow thickly before answering.

"Yes, my pr..." she began, only to stop herself as she took in the expectant face of her son and the puzzled look of Kathryn. "Yes, Henry," she tried again, forcing a smile to her face as her eyes once more skimmed his costume. Historically it was entirely inaccurate, but the whole outfit had screamed of Disney and there was no mistaking which character he was portraying.

"And so you know who you are?" He tilted his head to the side, the corners of his mouth twitching in to a genuine smile; that action he had never learnt from her. _Emma_, she thought, her breath catching slightly.

Her focus shifted to the crumpled blue and yellow material at her feet, the dress she had let fall from her grasp. There had been no mistaking the puffed blue and red shoulders, nor the yellow of the skirt. Even without the red headband that had accompanied the costume, Disney had ingrained this character in to the hearts and minds of every child - something she had not anticipated when cursing everyone to this realm.

She looked in to her son's eyes and saw the fantastical world he wanted so desperately to be a part of and realized, in that instant, he wanted her to be a part of it too. It wasn't enough to shift her opinion, but it chipped an ever so small fragment at her heart. However, she had known the moment she saw the dress that she would wear it; _anything_, she had thought, _to please my son_.

And so through gritted teeth and a plastered smile, she answered Henry's question, confirmed to him in two simple words that she knew who she would be tonight.

"Snow White."

* * *

o

* * *

Emma leaned heavily back against the door to her apartment. It had been the fifth group of trick or treaters already and she was sure she had never seen so many children in the neighbourhood before tonight. A glance into the treat bowl reminded her of how ill prepared she was for Halloween – a lollipop and a few mint candies were all that remained and she couldn't be certain that there would be no more cheery-eyed children knocking at her door, yelling out 'Trick or Treat' when she answered.

She looked around the room and sighed.

The apartment was too quiet for the thoughts swirling inside her head, the dim light from the lamp cast its glow over the furniture; a part of her wished someone could shine a light upon her thoughts. For now they felt as if they were a giant, tangled mess hidden in the darkest corner of her mind.

_Barely over a week had gone by since her birthday, that painful reminder that the world was passing her by and that each year just brought her foot closer to the grave. It had been a bleak way of looking at things, but her melancholy knew no bounds at certain times of the year – her birthday being no exception. But she insisted on _dwelling_ on all the things she couldn't - or wouldn't – change, and by the time she realized she was doing that, months would have passed. She would kick herself up the ass to get back in to _living_ in the world, and perhaps for a few weeks she would; invariably, however, she would slip once more in to the ease of routine and the comfort of the devil she knew._

_As it was now – her life would continue one step after another, one day after another, and the past week had gone by in a haze of ambivalence and apathy. Her birthday had seemed like one great, depressing maw that would have swallowed her whole, but as always, she had awoken the next morning, ready to carry on with this life._

_Finding traces of crumbs and icing strewn across the kitchen counter tops had been a mild shock when she had walked around the corner, rubbing her eyes and nursing the pounding in her head. However, it had been nothing compared to the shock of standing on a very sharp, wooden skewer that was on the edge of the kitchen floor. A yelp had escaped her throat before she had realized, and as her eyes had travelled down, she noticed the entire packet of skewers lying strewn across the cheap, vinyl covering._

_Hopping on one foot over to the sink, she had found the remainder of the cake in the sink, along with a half burnt skewer; it was with a groan that she scooped them out and deposited them in the rubbish bin nearby. Coffee was what she was after, and maybe some painkillers – anything to divert the hangover that was pushing against her temples and throbbing through her body._

_It was then, as she was stirring the instant coffee and watching it swirl in the cup that she decided to take Meg up on the offer of trading her shift today for another on Monday. Sick as she was feeling right now, she was in no condition to work._

_Instinctively she had reached for the phone in her back pocket and was a little perplexed when it had not been there – these clothes were, after all, the same ones she had fallen asleep in the night before._

Two Tylenol_, she thought, _two then I'll start looking_. The throbbing in her head had started in earnest - unrelenting in its desire to remind her exactly how much she had consumed the night before. It demanded her full attention first and foremost, and she was thankful there were still a few Tylenol left in the box. After that, it hadn't taken her long to locate her phone, lying on the floor beside the mattress. She flipped her phone open and… nothing._

_She stared at the blank screen, the battery entirely drained, and frowned at it. Not entirely sure what to make of it, she plugged it in to begin charging so she could call in sick to work. It took a few minutes before there was enough charge in the phone for her to turn it on, her call history displayed prominently across the screen._

_The blood had drained from her face as soon as she saw the number and the call duration; what had possessed her to memorize Regina's number was no longer of concern – but the fact she had drunk dialled this woman the night before was now forefront in her mind. The fact she couldn't remember was disconcerting at the very least, but that the call had remained open for so long only meant one thing – Regina had answered. Not only had Regina answered, but also she had stayed on the line long enough for her battery to die. Emma wasn't sure if she should be mortified at drunk dialling the one woman she couldn't get out of her mind, or feeling shame that the only time she finally had the courage to call was when she was blind drunk._

_After that came the guilt, the '_should I call and apologize_' sentiment that would, no doubt, be entirely awkward and something she would be wholly unprepared to do with this hangover. So she had stared at the phone, hoping it would give her an answer as to what course of action she should take – but it stubbornly kept its opinion to itself. It was only after a further five minutes that she had called Meg and begged leave for the day, easily granted by the woman in exchange for another shift the following week instead._

_The Tylenol had begun to work as she lay on her mattress, arm thrown across her eyes to block out the sun – coffee forgotten upon the kitchen counter. When her headache had subsided enough for coherent thought, she picked her phone up once more and stared at the screen once again. Slowly she had punched in Regina's number, waiting for the courage to hit the call button. However, her mind worked overtime – thinking of every possible scenario that would greet her at the other end – and she had closed her phone once more._

_Throughout the course of the week she had dialled Regina's number more times than she could remember, never once finding that courage to actually call. She'd never thought herself a coward, but right now she felt more cowardly than the Lion from Oz._

With a sigh she flipped open her phone once more, the cool timber from the door still at her back, the treat bowl discarded to the side on the kitchen counter. There, in her phone were a number of saved messages – further proof that not only was she too afraid to call, but she was too afraid to send a simple message. Swallowing her self-loathing, she scrolled through them.

_Hi, it's Emma. Sorry I drunk called you. Didn't mean it._

_Regina, I just wanted to say sorry for calling you. I was having a particularly rough day and… well… I shouldn't have._

_Hi, it's Emma. Tallahassee? I'm sure you remember – you have all those files on me…_

_Regina, that call, I don't remember it. But you stayed on the line until my battery died. Why?_

_I called you drunk and I shouldn't have. But I think maybe we should talk._

_I have to know, just one thing. Why?_

_Dammit. I'm not even sending these messages to you, I'm not sure why I keep writing them, let alone saving them. I don't know what's going on, but you're in my thoughts – even when I'm asleep. Is there something there? What I felt with you? Or am I the only one who feels this… God, I don't know. Will you find me again? I wonder.._

_You were a beautiful one night stand, but let's not pretend it was more than what it was._

A frown crossed her face as she read the last few messages. She had known full well by the second message that she would never hit send – the rest, she surmised, were merely a way for her to get it all off her chest. Reading back over them, however, she wondered if she was suffering some kind of mild psychosis. Surely talking to a phone wasn't normal.

With a clench of her teeth, she began deleting the unsent messages. It would do no one any good for those to remain there; she would never send them and reading them was just yet another painful reminder of all the things she couldn't say. She paused deleting her messages as a text message from Dean came through – a generic message wishing her a happy Halloween. She swallowed thickly as she read it, wondering if this is what her life had been reduced to; if this is all it would ever be. A series of unsent messages or received messages of no real value. Her stomach burned as a low fire set itself within her once more and she found herself unable to shake the image of a dark haired beauty.

Grabbing her jacket from the back of the chair, she slipped her arms through before running her fingers through her hair. It was still early in the night, but her candy supply had run dry and she did not want to be the cause of disappointment in the next group of Trick or Treaters that would come to her door.

Turning the handle, she stepped out of her apartment, pulling the door closed behind her and locking it. There was a bar not too far that had remained, as yet, untried - and if she were correct in what she had seen when she passed on her way home from work, there were pool tables in the back. It wasn't Joe's, but it would do for tonight.

* * *

o

* * *

"Just one more house, please Mommy?" Henry begged, large eyes looking up towards his mother.

Regina sighed as she pulled at the scratchy material of her costume, carefully masking the look of disgust as she felt it pass across her face and ripple through her body. Three hours she had endured this dress, three hours of a near constant reminder of a part of her life she wished to keep in the past. Kathryn's continued presence at her side, whilst not unwelcome, did little to ease the growing discomfort of wearing this costume.

Her attention turned to her young son, looking up at her with expectant eyes. This was the third 'just one more house' and she wondered how many more she would endure.

"This is the last one, Henry," she replied, voice low with promise. The plastic pumpkin he was using to collect candy was well over half full; as it was, she would be removing most of the sweets, knowing they were destined for the rubbish bin.

His eyes alighted with joy as he ran down the pathway to the nearest house. With a sigh of resignation, she followed; the sound of Kathryn's footsteps at her side not the distraction for which she had hoped.

It was a further fifteen minutes before the trio had finally made their way back home and Regina was relieved beyond measure to be rid of the costume, the reminder, the rage that burned on a low simmer in the back of her mind. She had allowed Henry only one sweet before dinner; an action she had thought he would protest - but he had taken the lollipop and run from the room without so much as a backward glance. Moments later he had returned to the dining room, his birthday pop up book in one hand and the Incredible Hulk in the other. It made her smile as he sat his costumed body down in to one of the chairs and began to show his green figurine the book once again.

She pulled her attention from her son as she heard Kathryn return to the kitchen, costume once more discarded in favour of the blue jeans and a white turtle neck the other woman had been wearing when she arrived.

"Would you care for a drink?"

Regina reached for the bottle of white wine and opened it before glancing back to the blonde woman.

"Most definitely," Kathryn replied, leaning against the kitchen counter, "I'd forgotten how draining it was to go trick or treating."

Regina opened the cupboard for two glasses and poured the wine, handing one to Kathryn. As she moved, a memory sparked in her mind, the fact her phone was not in her pocket. It had been with her in that gods forsaken dress as she was supervising Henry's trick or treating and the only conclusion she could come to was that it was still laying upon her bed upstairs after she had changed. She remembered putting it on the duvet and silently berated herself for leaving it out of her sight; it had not been apart from her - _not since_... she stopped herself before thinking further on it. A glance back at the other woman saw her catch the slightest hint of concern across her pale features and it galled her that she could be readable to anyone else.

Preparing to excuse herself to retrieve her phone, Henry's voice reached her from the dining room.

"Mommy, I'm hungry!"

Inwardly she groaned at the interruption. However, it had been a week and Emma had had every opportunity to contact her again and failed to do so. The initial contact and subsequent rejection stung, as if peeling a scab off a partially healed wound. It was still fresh and a part of her, however small and buried, railed against the vulnerability of hurt she felt.

"Not long, my prince," she answered with ease as she turned her attention to the blonde woman nearby. "Would you care to stay for dinner?" she asked with a smile upon her lips that never truly reached her eyes.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma pulled her legs up underneath her on the tattered, old sofa. She had spent enough hours at the bar nearby to ensure that the kids trick or treating would be well and truly at home and tucked up in their beds before she ventured back to her apartment.

She paused for a moment as she digested the errant thought, the one that this was _her_ apartment. Nothing, she knew, was permanent for her in this life and a moment of panic seized her as she realized she had begun to once again become comfortable, once more start to forget that nothing, ever, remained.

A sigh of regret escaped her throat as she reached for the remote control, her finger hovering above the power button to turn it on; to lose herself in the blur of motion across the screen, in the lives of others and the promise of a happily ever after. Not for the first time, and certainly not for the last, she wondered if perhaps she could have her happily ever after as well. If the spark of electricity she felt every time she thought of Regina could be more than lust, more than her desire to share this emptiness with someone else, the same someone who had touched her as no other ever had.

She threw the remote to the cushion beside her and stared out the window in to the darkness. _Maine_, she thought, _I wonder what that's like this time of year_.

With a shake of her head she dismissed the thought; knew, like so many other things this past week, nothing would come of it. It would be like her text messages sitting on the phone, unsent until finally deleted from memory as if it never existed in the first place.

Pushing herself off the chair, she made her way to her room, to her mattress on the floor – a perfect reminder of her transience that she could not even buy a bed frame for the mattress on which she slept. The buzz from the bar was wearing off and she desperately wanted sleep to claim her before her thoughts of another life, another time, could surface and drown her once again.

So it was, with her body still enjoying the after effects of a few drinks, that she lay down and forced herself to sleep; the now familiar fire burning low in her stomach as she did.

* * *

o

* * *

"That was delicious, Regina," Kathryn commented as she rinsed the last of the plates before placing it in the dishwasher.

Regina glanced at the woman to her left as she sipped upon yet another glass of white wine – two empty bottles stood waiting to be thrown in to the recycling bin, whilst a third was almost ready to join its brothers. She could feel the light headedness creeping upon her and pleasantly warming her body. It had been a while since she had consumed more than a single glass in any one sitting.

Henry had long since excused himself to go to bed and had, in her opinion, endured her hugs and kisses impatiently. She was not misled in to believing he hadn't taken a few treats up with him and wanted to eat them without her watching. For her part, she would pretend she didn't notice the way his pyjama sleeves were slightly more bulky than they should have been, nor would she notice the wrappers she would find carefully hidden when she cleaned his room tomorrow morning. She would let him have this secrecy; allow him to believe he had been clever enough to sneak something past her.

"I'm glad you enjoyed the meal," she replied, finding herself surprised to actually mean it.

The grateful smile Kathryn supplied in return momentarily puzzled Regina.

"Thank you," the blonde said, wiping her hands on the towel near the sink before picking up her own glass of wine, nursing it between her hands. "I don't have the opportunity to get out much. It was nice to not spend another holiday alone in my house." She shrugged her shoulders slightly, dropping them forward as she bowed her head to stare intently in to her wine.

Regina was at a loss as to what to say. This woman had become the closest thing to a friend she had had in a long time and she was solely responsible for the emptiness Kathryn felt at this moment in time. A part of her raged once more at both the vulnerability she had begun feeling and the care that she felt sneaking up on her when she least expected it.

The silence stretched and she watched as Kathryn downed the last of her wine.

"I should really be going," the blonde said as she placed her glass down upon the counter and began to walk out of the kitchen.

It took only moments for Regina to see the sway in Kathryn's steps, the slight glaze over her eyes, the way her words occasionally slurred together. She clenched her jaw and made a decision she had never once made before.

"Stay the night," she said, catching the blonde's attention.

"No, it's fine," Kathryn replied as she reached for her handbag and began to fumble around for her car keys.

"I won't have you driving whilst under the influence, Ms Nolan."

The formality of the tone caused Kathryn to pause and Regina felt a moment of relief that the blonde would not be getting behind the wheel of a car tonight.

"Are you sure it wouldn't be any trouble?"

"None at all," Regina replied as she thought of the guest rooms downstairs. No one had spent a single night in any of the guest rooms available in her manor, yet every two weeks she had changed the sheets and duvet, aired the rooms out and prepared them in case someone ever did. It was a strange sensation, after nearly a quarter of a century, for someone to actually make use of one. Each guest room had been copied almost directly from a home decorating magazine when Regina had first arrived, only to be updated as times and fashion changed.

A few moments passed as she placed her wine glass down, still holding a small amount of white wine within. She led Kathryn to one of those downstairs guest rooms and felt the odd sensation pass through her once more. Twenty-four years; everything felt like it was changing.

"Is there anything you need?" She asked, waiting patiently at the door as Kathryn stepped through in to the room and turned back to face her. Briefly she looked past the blonde woman, in to the room beyond and felt a sigh well within her – of something lost or something found, she could not be sure.

"No, I'll be fine."

Regina nodded and turned, taking a step to leave before she felt a hand placed lightly against her forearm. Her body stiffened at the contact as her eyes moved of their own accord to the hand on her arm. It took her only a moment where she exhaled softly and bit the inside of her cheek as she followed the intruding arm back to Kathryn; only a moment for her to decide this contact was unwelcome.

"Thank you," came the blonde's voice, pushing through her mental cloud and the look upon the younger woman's face was a mixture of gratitude and something Regina couldn't quite place.

She forced her body to relax, made easier when Kathryn removed her hand from Regina's arm.

"Of course," she answered, her tone clipped. A momentary flash of hurt passed across the blonde's features, quickly disguised by a smile. Turning once more, she walked from the guest room, hearing the door close behind her.

Her footsteps fell heavy against the stair case as she climbed her way up to her own room, having turned off the lights and started the dishwasher before going to bed. There was a faint itch where Kathryn had touched her arm, almost a burn, which she was eager to wash from her skin. The sensation was strange and she blamed her consumption of alcohol for both the thought and her reaction – she was generally a light drinker. It wasn't, after all, the first time the other woman had ever touched her – they had shared the odd hug, as awkward as they tended to be on her part.

Closing her own door, she rested against it; the heaviness of the day began to push against her once more as it had a tendency to do recently. It was a rare day when she could fall in to her bed without feeling breathless from the weight of inevitability and fate. Her own helplessness compounded on those quiet, lonely nights – when the only sound in the house was the gentle hum of the dishwasher on its rinse cycle.

She pushed herself from the timber door at her back and made her way over to the bed, falling upon it fully clothed as she stared up towards her ceiling in the darkness. Her heart beat loudly in her ears as the world tilted ever so slightly. Once more, without warning, the impossible spark struck her low in the stomach; a burning sensation of longing and despair wrapped up in the package of love. She groaned, whether with pain or her memories, she was unsure, as thoughts of Emma swirled through her mind.

Not for the first time Regina wondered if love was meant to hurt as much as this; if separation burned others as keenly as she felt it within her.

She threw an arm across her eyes as her mind replayed her conversation with Emma from the week before, drawing out certain sentences to emphasize the point, to hurt, to remind. Her other arm reached out across the bed, the cool cover of the duvet against her fingers grounding her to the present. It wasn't until they came in contact with a small, cold, rectangular object that she remembered her phone was not in her pocket.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as she wrapped her hand around it, as if it would draw her closer to Emma just by holding it – and perhaps that was true. For the moment her fingers wound around the phone the flame from the spark grew until she could almost see, almost feel, almost hear Emma surrounding her.

It took her a few moments, sighing in contentment at the almost tangibility of the Emma in her mind, before she realized her phone was blinking at her.

Sitting bolt upright she noticed the four missed calls and one received text message. The blood rushed through her, her heart beat increasingly faster as she once more felt hope rising within. Hope she dared not to give voice to, dared not to name.

With shaking fingers, desperately trying to quell that same hope, she opened up the message and felt her heart burst.

**Regina, Emma's car has been found. Call me. SG.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: I own nothing no matter how much I wish I did. I just took them out of the cupboard to play.**

**A/N: My thanks, as always, go to Jo - who continues to go through my crap and make it sound halfway decent :)**

* * *

o

* * *

Emma blew warm air through her hands as she stepped over the threshold in to the tattoo parlour that had become her second home in this city.

"Morning, Meg," she called out to the empty shop as the door closed behind her.

"Hi, Emma," came a reply from the back room.

Sunday mornings were usually quiet and Emma knew this was the time Meg would be taking inventory for the week's supplies of ink and jewellery. It had been a long night of revelry in the park across the street and Emma was still fighting tiredness even after her brisk walk to work.

The tea room in the back had a few small amenities and she set the kettle to boil before pulling out two mugs from the nearby cupboard. It had become a regular occurrence for her to make coffee for the two of them on the mornings they worked together.

"Did you do anything for Halloween?"

Emma glanced up from the mugs at which she had been staring intently to see Meg leaning against the frame of the doorway.

"Not much," she replied with a shrug of her shoulders, "holidays aren't really my thing."

"But everyone loves Halloween!" Meg said, a hint of teasing in her voice "didn't your parents ever take you trick or treating as a kid?"

Emma turned quickly with the pretence of pouring the scalding liquid from the kettle in to the waiting mugs, her face heating from shame. She knew it wasn't Meg's fault, and perhaps if she'd been a little more honest she wouldn't be standing here, gripping the counter with one hand as though Death himself were trying to pull her to the Underworld. However, it stung – the rawness of that wound never dissipating, never healing; always sitting there just below the surface and waiting to rear its ugly head and remind her once again how she had been abandoned to the system.

"No."

She stirred the coffee quickly before throwing the spoon in to the sink. With a quiet, deep breath she picked up the mugs and turned back to her boss.

"Here," she said, holding out the mug that was Meg's.

"Hey Em, I'm sorry if…" Meg began, only to be cut off mid-sentence.

"It's fine, don't worry about it." She arched her eyebrows as she nodded slightly towards the mug in her hand. "It'll be cold if you stand around waiting to take it."

Without a sound, Meg took the cup from Emma's outstretched hand and murmured her thanks before heading back in to the tattooing room. Emma was thankful there would be neither questions nor any awkward silence that usually accompanied a revelation about her past. It was one thing she hated when meeting new people – that inevitable look they would give her, of pity, of sympathy, whenever they eventually found out that she had less than a stellar childhood. There wasn't a single person she could recall that hadn't given her that look.

She paused briefly, green mug part way to her mouth, as she reflected on that errant thought. There had been one. One who, arguably, knew all the sins that had surrounded Emma's life – whether perpetrated by her, or to her, it had all been in those files. Those neat little dot points highlighting events in her life. _And never once, Em, did you even see a touch of pity in those eyes._ Eyes, she recalled, that she could get lost in, could swim through the depths of and never fear of drowning.

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding; watched as the cup in her hand shook ever so slightly. Once more she felt a low simmer in her stomach as she conjured up a perfect image of Regina in her mind, skin flushed in post-orgasmic bliss. A shiver ran down her spine and she almost groaned in response.

_No_, she told herself as she shook herself back to the present. With a grimace, she took a large swallow of the bitter, instant coffee and sighed.

The sound of Meg sorting through inventory played as background noise whilst she cleaned down the glass counter tops in the outer room of the studio and restocked the jewellery cases. Weekends were always busy days and the bookings for Meg were back to back – her reputation had most definitely preceded her. Occasionally Emma had wondered if she were to get a tattoo, what she would choose. However, no matter how often she thought of it, no strong image had ever taken root in her mind and flourished; nothing seemed to grasp her as being permanent enough in her life to ink it into her skin for eternity.

She lifted her head from looking through the jewellery cases under the counter as Meg walked past, opening the door to business. Time had escaped her once more and the mug of coffee resting on the floor beside her had grown cold. As unappealing as it usually was when hot enough to burn off her taste buds, it could not be stomached at all at room temperature. With a sigh, she pushed off her knees and took the cup back to the small kitchenette, rinsing out the mug; the electronic buzzer at the door sounding for the first time that day.

* * *

o

* * *

"What a day!" Meg exclaimed as she slumped heavily in to one of the chairs in the waiting room and proceeded to flick through a three month old biking magazine.

For her part, Emma leaned her hip against the counter, rubbing at her aching lower back. During the week there were always times in between customers she could sit down to rest, but weekends gave her no such respite. It reminded her of when she had worked in the diner.

"I feel like I've been on my feet for a week solid," she said, exhaling in relief that she would have two blissful days to herself, unanswerable to anyone.

"Any plans for your days off?"

Emma shook her head as a reply. Like every other week she would consider what she should do with her days off, might even go to the local store and buy a few frozen dinners to get her through the rest of the week when she couldn't be bothered to order take out. Before she would know it, it would be Wednesday again and she'd be back to work once more. However, unlike every other week, for the first time since arriving, she seriously considered spending one of her days off searching for a bed frame for her mattress so she no longer had to sleep on the floor. It wasn't much, but for her, she knew, it was a big step.

So lost in thought was she, that she hadn't realized Meg had stopped talking. She had been so caught up idly tracing invisible lines upon the glass counter tops that it was almost startling when Meg spoke again.

"Hey Em, look, I'm sorry about this morning. I really put my foot in it."

Emma watched as the magazine was closed and placed back down on the table nearby; watched as Meg leaned forward and laced her fingers together, fidgeting. She had really thought this topic was behind her, closed, never to be discussed again.

"You weren't to know. Don't worry about it." Emma tried to brush it off casually, as if it were of no great importance, and hoped that her face did not betray the lie.

"I know, but Dean said…" Meg said before clamping her mouth shut.

"Dean said what?" Emma asked, voice low. Inwardly she sighed; just when she was starting to like this city.

"Nothing, really," Meg replied, back-peddling as fast as she could away from her statement.

"Meg."

There was a sigh from the red haired woman before she stood up.

"He just said you were like him, that's all."

Emma watched as the other woman stood up, held her eyes long enough to see the sincerity, to see the pity. She swallowed hard to stop the bile rising, the sickness she felt every time someone looked at her like that. As if they had any idea what she went through all those years – the desire to belong and the inevitable rejection that followed those first, formative years. And she could see in Meg's eyes that she was filling in the gaps with her own imagination, could see her thinking of all the things that would make Emma this broken, this damaged… _this unlovable_. And she felt it then, the anger in the pit of her stomach that could burn bright white if she just gave in to it. The anger and … she felt it … the _other_ thing that had taken up residence deep within her. That spark, that golden thread, which warmed her and told her that she was wrong, she was lovable.

But she couldn't acknowledge that, not now.

Before Emma had a chance to respond, the electronic buzzer from the door sounded and a large man – all muscle and no neck – came sauntering in to the studio, one hand behind his back.

This, Emma knew, was something with which she could deal.

"We're closed," she said, thankful for the distraction.

"No love," he said, a grin spreading over his face, "I don't think you are just yet."

As if in slow motion she watched as this great bear of a man, beard to his chest, bandana over his head, swung his arm around from behind his back, his hand clenched around an object.

For the briefest of moments, Emma misread the entire situation and watched as her life flashed before her eyes, lingering finally upon Regina.

Once her brain had caught up, she saw the flowers in his hand and the way Meg turned around, her own smile upon her lips.

"Hey sweetheart," the big guy said, leaning down to give Meg a quick kiss on the cheek before handing her the small bunch of flowers.

"Ben," she said, slapping him playfully on his arm, "you didn't tell me you were in town!"

"What? And ruin the surprise?" he asked, a gleam in his eye as he slipped an arm around the red head's shoulders.

Meg gave an easy laugh and Emma suddenly found she felt quite uncomfortable being around this pair. It was obvious they had a thing going for each other, and if nothing else it offered the perfect excuse for her to leave and avoid the conversation that had been started.

"Hey listen, I gotta get going; things to do and all that," she said, subconsciously tapping at her pockets to make sure she still had everything she needed to take with her. Wallet in one back pocket, phone in the other and keys in the front right – everything was in its place.

"But I thought…" Meg began before being cut off.

"Yeah, I forgot. I said I'd meet some people for a couple of drinks tonight." The lie hung in the air, waiting to be accepted.

Meg nodded slowly and gave her that look again that Emma was quickly growing to loathe.

"Ok Em, I'll see you on Wednesday then?"

Emma nodded before heading out past the pair, hearing Ben's voice as she closed the door asking if Meg had time for a 50 in black on the back of his neck.

As she walked home, kicking rocks along the pathway, she thought about the last thing Meg had said and wondered how much Dean had actually told the red haired woman. If she had been a more cynical person, she might have believed that Meg had asked about seeing her on Wednesday with the expectation Emma was about to run.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma trudged up the last flight of stairs to her apartment, her feet sore from being on them all day coupled with the walk home. She was looking forward to a long soak in the bath and then maybe some take out Chinese food for dinner. Her stomach growled at the thought.

She swept her gaze along the whitewashed walls and threadbare carpet; one of the overhead fluorescent lights was still flickering and had been since the first day she had set foot in this apartment block. The elevator, she had since discovered, had been down for repairs for the past six months and didn't look like it would be back any time soon. For her part, she cared little about that – it wasn't so taxing for her to walk up a few flights of stairs; and if she were honest with herself, this wasn't the worst place she had ever lived in.

Her eyes skimmed to her door and she faltered only briefly as she saw Dean leaning against it. _Was it too much to ask for a little peace and quiet?_

"Hey Em," he said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Hey," she replied, pulling out her keys and opening the door.

She threw her wallet and keys down on the counter as she stepped inside before heading around the counter in to the kitchen and setting the kettle to boil. She would have preferred a stiffer drink, but coffee was all she had right now.

"Coffee?" she asked, weariness creeping in to her voice.

"No, I won't be here long."

She watched as he pulled a few papers from his jacket pocket and put them on the counter between them. Her eyes flicked to the papers and she groaned inwardly; she should have dealt with this last week.

"Do you have a pen?"

Dean nodded, pulling one from his pocket; she took it with only the slightest hint of regret. Another part of her life she was signing away and, not for the first time, she was glad she wasn't the sentimental type.

"Thanks Em," Dean said as he scooped the newly signed papers from the counter and turned to leave.

"Wait," she said, instantly regretting it the moment the word left her mouth.

"What's up?"

That same lack of concern shone through in his words as well as his demeanour, and for the briefest moment in time she wondered how he could ever be in a relationship with anyone. But as soon as the thought came to her she dismissed it; who was she to judge when the closest thing she came to love was a one night stand two months ago.

"I was talking to Meg today. She mentioned you might have said a few things about me to her."

At least Dean had the courtesy to look slightly ashamed.

"Sorry, I just know Meg can be quite an overpowering personality – I just, I dunno." He shrugged his shoulders and exhaled.

"Well, whatever your reason, can you just not? Please? I don't want my life advertised for people out there." She felt that anger push again inside her and she took a deep breath. "Just, can you stay out of it? I don't want or need your help."

She hadn't realized she had been gripping the counter so tightly until her fingers began to ache.

"Yeah Em, it won't happen again."

And when Emma looked at him, she saw it in his eyes – he wouldn't. This had been the closest he came to caring a damn and she'd shot it down.

"Thanks," she said, a little softer this time; giving up a smile that she knew wasn't really reaching her eyes. It was taken as a peace offering all the same.

"No worries."

She watched as he raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips together and she wondered if he was going to say something. The kettle took that moment to punctuate the silence and Dean nodded to her as he opened the door.

"See you later, Em."

Before she had time to answer, the door was clicking closed.

With a sigh she poured herself a cup of coffee and wrapped her hands around the hot mug before taking a sip. The scalding liquid burnt her mouth, but she paid it no mind.

* * *

o

* * *

Emma pulled up pale blue, cotton pyjama pants over her slender hips, her fingers lingering on the faint stretch marks from the birth. It felt like every time she looked, the marks were just a shade less prominent, fading in to obscurity, and she wasn't sure it was something she wanted. It was the only tangible thing she had left from the son she had given up for adoption; given up so he could have a better chance at life. As much as she knew it was the right decision, it pained her when she thought of her own upbringing, wondering what had been so fundamentally wrong with her that her parents had chosen to give her up. She hoped, beyond all reasonable hope, that her son would not think there was something fundamentally wrong with him and that's why he had been placed for adoption. Like she did at times, her mind drifted and she allowed a small seed of hope to take root that wherever he was, her son was safe and loved.

Laying down on her mattress on the floor she stared up in to the darkness, eyes wide as she listened to the distant noise of traffic. She let her mind wander back to her evening as she willed sleep to drift over her.

_She had finished her coffee in large gulps after Dean had left, the liquid burning a path down her throat in to her stomach. But it was enough – enough to make her feel something, anything – and once finished, she cursed the fact she had neither vodka nor wine in the apartment._

_With heavy feet she had entered the bathroom and set the taps on for the bath. Under the sink she took out a bulk purchase size bottle of bubble bath she had bought herself as a treat. It wasn't bath salts or expensive gels, but this bubble bath represented something she had bought purely for her own self-indulgence. Liberally she added it to the water and watched as the bubbles sprung forth, multiplying as the water poured into the tub._

_It took her only moments to discard the clothes she had been wearing all day, peeling them from her as if they contained the memories of which she wanted to rid herself. Hair up in a bun and a towel rolled and resting on the back of the tub as a pillow, she gingerly lowered herself in to the steaming bath, hissing as the water crept higher up her body._

_Another minute passed before she finally moved to turn the taps off and allowed herself to relax into the curative heat of the bath. A further minute again before she let her hands play with the bubbles on the surface, revelling in the temperature difference as the water moved around her body._

_She had closed her eyes to the sensation, allowing it to overcome her; and as the warm glow began in her stomach, she found herself unsurprised that one of her hands had drifted to her breast as the other worked its way between her legs. It had taken time, as the heat seeped in through her skin; fingers and hands plunging and kneading, rubbing and squeezing, as the only woman she ever wanted to make love to once again invaded her senses._

_It was with a soft cry that Emma found her release, leaving her panting for air as the aftershocks finally subsided._

_Nearly forty-five minutes later saw her standing outside the Chinese restaurant pushing the change from her meal back in to her pocket with one hand as she held the plastic bag containing her food in the other. It wasn't the best Chinese she had ever tasted, but it was within walking distance of her apartment and that's what counted most for her at the moment. She had arrived home not long after, proceeding to eat directly from the box with the snap apart chopsticks provided. Her stomach had finally stopped growling after the first mouthful and she found herself savouring every bite thereafter._

_Once she had finished, the box pushed away from her on the table and chopsticks standing up inside, her mind wandered once more. As it seemed to do on a regular basis, it locked on to the stunning, dark haired woman; not for the first time Emma wondered what Regina would be doing now._

_With a groan she moved back from the table, standing up and throwing out the remnants of dinner before curling up on the couch. She needed something to take away the thoughts, to take away the edge, and she had no alcohol in the apartment. So she had flicked through the channels, surfing until her mind was consumed only with the flashes of colour on the screen – of the lives of characters who weren't her, who were getting their happy endings._

And so here she found herself, midnight a distant memory, trying to will herself to sleep. She closed her eyes, but her body tingled with suppressed energy, twitching randomly when she least expected it.

That small ball of golden energy pulsed lightly in her veins, centring itself low in her stomach once more. If she thought about it, she could almost visualize its warmth seeping through her, soothing her, holding her. In a moment of ridiculous thought, she wondered if love itself could be made tangible, whether this is what it would look like. The errant thought caused a soft laugh to escape her, piercing the darkness and dying all too soon upon her lips. Another figment of her imagination that she had chosen to associate with the chestnut haired beauty who was beginning, once again, to invade her senses.

She sighed and rolled over on to her stomach, pulling her pillow tight underneath her head. Concentrating on the vision of a golden thread, she held it tightly in one hand and slowly began to wrap it around herself. Relaxation seemed to sweep over her as her mind conjured up the image of thread entwining her body, holding her safely in its golden warmth. It was the most peaceful she had felt all week, and when she exhaled slowly a smile formed upon her lips.

Before Emma could form another thought, she had drifted off to sleep.

When she opened her eyes next, she was greeted to the sight of a white painted door, badly in need of renovation. The paint itself was peeling off, revealing the weathered timber of the door below. As she pressed her hand against it, it flaked off easily against her skin, sticking to her palm only briefly before falling to the threadbare carpet below her feet. Looking down the hall she noticed many doors in a similar state of disrepair; a light flickering over where the stairs ended on this floor.

From somewhere outside the building she could hear an exchange between two women; one sounding almost desperate, another simply sounding annoyed. She strained to hear the words, but was only able to catch the tone; a part of her wanted to push through the door and tread quietly to a window – the woman had sounded so on edge, so in pain and she found herself needing to see her.

A door slammed from above and she could hear the loud ranting of the woman on the floor above her, cursing with a thick Asian accent about calling the police and _why everyone make so much noise_? The silence from outside the building was deafening, another part of her urging her to go down the stairs and find out what had transpired.

A slight tingling sensation began in the base of Emma's skull, of a memory just on the edge, pushing tentatively. She knew she should know this place. Her brow furrowed as her fingers once more traced against the peeling paint before slipping over the door handle.

Sounds from below once more filtered up and she could hear the deep, dulcet tones of a Southern accent; however try as she might she could not understand the words that were being spoken. Her curiosity piqued, she intended to go down the stairs and find out what was happening; this was _her_ dream after all. However, no matter how hard she urged her feet to move, her body remained unresponsive – instead rooting her to the spot just outside this door that she knew, without a doubt, she should know.

Frantic footfalls could be heard upon the stairs – the sound pushing, edging at the corners of her mind. Each flight they ascended, the louder and more insistent they became; frantic in their desperation. She turned to watch the stairs, certain that at any moment she would see their owner; that the mystery would be solved.

Just as she was sure a body would come in to view, the sound stopped. The silence that followed was deafening; the quiet resonating loudly in her ears.

_That's strange_, Emma thought to herself as she ran her fingers through her hair and gave one more futile attempt to move her feet in the direction of the stairs. She'd had her share of quirky dreams, but this one felt different, yet oddly familiar.

Turning her attention back to the door she was only somewhat surprised to notice that the door that had previously been ajar was now pushed wide open. For the third time she attempted to move, this time to cross the threshold in to the apartment; and for the first time since her dream began, her feet cooperated.

The moment she moved past the old, white door, recognition hit her full force – her apartment, Tallahassee and the reason she had left in such a hurry.

Her breath caught in her throat and she pressed the palm of her hand against the nearest wall to steady herself. She found it only slightly peculiar that it had taken her stepping in to her apartment for her mind to allow her to remember it; after all, she had lived here for two years. A sigh escaped her lips as she let her fingers trace idle lines along the wall as she walked through to the cramped, little kitchen.

Everything was how she last remembered it, magazines and papers lay strewn across the stained, white vinyl floor whilst glass and cheap porcelain lay smashed at the base of another wall. Each razor sharp edge was covered in both plaster dust and chips where the force of their impact had torn chunks from the wall. It stunned her that she had done this; that she did not have as much control on her anger as she had begun to assume she did.

The television lay broken in the middle of the living room floor next to a toaster on her couch. To her shame, she didn't even remember throwing it.

It was then she heard a sound coming from where her bedroom would be and it shook her from this scene of destruction.

Without thought, she headed towards the noise, swallowing thickly when she realized it was the muffled sounds of a woman trying desperately not to cry. She knew the sound of pain when she heard it.

Upon entering her room she saw another trail of devastation that she had wreaked on this small apartment and shame once more coloured her features. However, what caught and held her attention was the brunette on her bed, staring down at something in her hand, her shoulders shaking with every repressed sob. And Emma felt it then, the spark burning in her stomach, the proximity to this woman too much for her to bear.

With two quick steps she was next to Regina, sitting down closely to her on the bed - their shoulders and thighs touching. The other woman looked up to her, startled and gasping, and Emma couldn't help the shy smile and small shrug of her shoulders that followed.

"Hey," Emma said in what she hoped was a soothing tone. But as the tears the older woman had been trying so hard to hide finally brimmed over and ran down her cheeks, she knew she had failed.

"Oh Regina, no tears," she said as she wrapped an arm around the brunette, feeling the older woman melt in to her side as if she had belonged there all along. As one hand rubbed soothing circles over a soft, silk shirt, she used the other to brush away those errant tears.

It felt almost foreign to Emma, comforting another person; especially one that had caused her such heartache. _But_, she had reasoned with herself the moment she had seen the hunched and shaking form of Regina on her bed, _what harm can it do in this dream world?_

Time passed slowly and soon the frequent shakes and twitches that had wracked Regina's body as Emma had held her began to pass. All too soon, Regina was pulling back, her face hidden behind a veil of soft, chestnut hair that Emma ached to run her fingers through.

"Why are you here?" Regina eventually asked, voice small and head bowed.

"I'm not sure," she replied honestly, "I guess my mind just wanted to bring me back to this place." Her eyes once more surveyed the anger meted out against innocent furniture; she sighed and closed her eyes.

"I never thought I'd see you here, not after…" Regina's voice trailed off as she shifted her attention to the window, staring intently outside into the clear, blue sky.

"It's my dream," Emma answered, a helpless shrug to her shoulders emphasizing her point.

"Is it?"

Emma's eyebrows knitted together in confusion briefly before she noticed what it was in Regina's hand that had held her attention for so long.

"You have my ultrasound picture."

It was a statement, nothing more.

Regina turned back and Emma felt her breath hitch once more as she fell in to those honey brown eyes as they searched her soul.

"I'm sorry."

It was all Emma heard, so quietly, as her attention was pulled down to those ruby red lips that had spoken those words. Without thought, she leaned forward, capturing them with her own and felt the spark in her stomach begin to start a fire. Lips pressed softly to each other's, she finally felt at peace.

Hesitantly she pulled back and searched the older woman's eyes; what she was looking for, she was uncertain. However, she found herself taken aback when she saw a glimpse of raw vulnerability in Regina's eyes, the mask lifting a fraction of a second too late.

"Lay down," Emma said, gently pushing the older woman back onto the bed.

She watched as Regina acquiesced, moving up along the bed and stretching out upon it. A faint smile pushed at the corners of her mouth, this woman so achingly beautiful before her.

"On your side," she said, and as Regina began to roll over to her right, she slipped in behind, moulding against her as she draped an arm almost possessively around a slender waist.

It was easy for Emma to get lost in the presence of this woman, to breathe her in and allow her to intoxicate her senses. Softly she peppered kisses along the back of Regina's neck and over a shoulder as her hand traced invisible lines on a soft, silk shirt. A slight shiver ran through the dark haired woman that Emma felt rather than saw, but the soft moan that escaped Regina's lips could not be missed.

She pulled the silk shirt from the waist band of expensive pants and slipped her hand underneath, fingertips dancing over warm, taut skin. As her hand moved higher, exploring the quivering flesh beneath her fingers, she leaned forward to lick the shell of Regina's ear. The groan that followed sent a shiver of its own down her spine.

With little hesitation, she cupped a lace-clad breast, palming it in her hand as she subconsciously pressed herself tighter against the brunette. It felt so right to be this close, and not for the first time she felt a sense of rightness wash over her.

Leaning up on her elbow, she brushed back the hair from Regina's neck before letting her tongue sweep an arc across the newly exposed skin. In response she felt the older woman grind her hips back against her; heard the gasp which had quickly turned in to a soft moan.

"Please," she heard whispered and she felt a smile cross her lips.

Her hand that had inched so slowly up took less time in its descent, stopping only to undo a button and pull down a zip before pushing below those expensive, tailored pants. The same lace feel greeted her fingertips and she felt as Regina jerked forward in to her hand. Her lips gently found Regina's pulse point as she slipped her fingers below the lace, sliding easily against wet heat.

Hips bucked against her hand once again as her fingers brushed against Regina's clit before plunging two fingers deep inside the brunette. At the groan that was ripped from Regina's throat, Emma found herself unable to stop the slow grind she had begun on a perfectly toned ass.

Her mouth never left the older woman's throat, suckling and nipping at the skin before her tongue would swipe over the tender area. Fingers worked tirelessly in the confined space afforded to her and the scent of their combined arousal permeated the air.

"Gods you're beautiful," she murmured into that perfect shell of an ear before she placed yet another kiss below it. "I could do this with you all day." She continued to nuzzle against the brunette's neck and shoulders, her hand never stopping.

It was only moments later when she felt the first contractions around her fingers, and as she did she bit down hard on the soft flesh of Regina's neck. Another cry was torn from the brunette's throat as her once steady movements became jerky; Emma wondered if this were perhaps the most beautiful sight in the world – a completely unravelled Regina, wrapped around her fingers.

As the contractions began to subside, Emma slipped her hand from those tailored pants. With a grin of delight, she licked her fingers clean before once more wrapping that protective arm around the woman in front of her.

"I…" Regina began.

"Shh," Emma whispered, "sleep now. I've got you."

She felt as Regina wriggled as far back in to her as possible and she held the woman just that little bit tighter.

"I've got you," she murmured one more time, her own voice sounding relaxed to her ears.

Once she heard the steady, even breathing of the woman in her arms, she finally allowed her own eyes to close and her dream world dissolved to black.

* * *

o

* * *

Regina had not been able to take the smile from her face from the moment she had awoken. At first she had found it difficult to let sleep claim her, and once she had, she found herself once more reliving _that_ day all over again. But in her dream, Emma had come to her, Emma had _loved_ her and she had to hope, had to believe that it really meant something for the two of them.

Which is why, five hours after waking up and dropping Henry at Kathryn's to spend the next few days with her, she found herself wandering aimlessly around New York. Once more she had claimed business was taking her out of town, albeit unexpectedly this time, and the first flight to Texas had been booked. Unfortunately, the four hour stop over in New York had been unavoidable. However, instead of sitting in the airport, letting nerves crawl through her skin and eat her inside, she had chosen to come in to the city and let the bustle of the crowds distract her.

She passed all manner of shop, her eyes skimming the displays in the window without pausing to be drawn in to the store itself. If she were not so anxious to be in Austin, she may have enjoyed the city, as different as it was from her small town in Maine. Her hair brushed against her neck as she shook her head, thinking exactly how far she had come from that frightened little girl kneeling before her Mother. Never in her wildest dreams back then had she thought a place like this could ever exist, let alone that she would be standing in the heart of it; obscure, unnoticed and more peaceful than she had ever been _there_.

The smile slipped from her face as she remembered that period of her life; the dark days of her youth and her love torn asunder. So long had she sought after and collected power to fill that void within, that to now be so powerless in the face of Emma Swan was both liberating and terrifying; the two emotions swinging to extremes when she least expected.

A glance to her watch caused a sigh to escape her lips; she had not spent as much time in the city as she had hoped. However, the small ball of nerves that was laying heavy in her stomach, was pressing her to return to the airport early. Turning to leave and hail a taxi, her eyes caught sight of an object in the last store front window. The last store on the last block in the last city she would ever have thought she would be standing. She could not help but wonder if fate had led her to this place and she bit her lower lip, teeth pulling across it, as her smile shone through one again.

Knowing she could not leave without it, she pushed at the door; the warmth from the heating inside a welcome sensation.

"Can I help you?" asked the small man behind the counter as the overhead bell chimed.

"I'd like to buy that," Regina said, motioning to what she wanted in the window.

She noticed as his brows furrowed together slightly.

"Do you not wish to know the price, Madame?"

Regina shook her head before answering. "It is of no consequence."

"Of course, Madame," the man answered before pulling it from the window. "Would you like it gift wrapped?"

Less than 10 minutes later Regina was sitting comfortably in a taxi, the man behind the wheel determined to tell her that the moon landing had been nothing more than an elaborate hoax perpetrated by the government. But even his obscure ramblings could not wipe the smile from her face as her fingers traced the delicate ribbon, wrapped neatly around the small, white box.


End file.
